AYS 


rYVCllTH 


'EMINISCENCES 
3APT-  J.  C,  TERRELL 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


BANCROFT    LIBRARY 


REMINISCENCES 


OF  THE 


EARLY  DAYS 


OF 


FORT  WORTH 


BY 


CAPT.  J.  C.  TERRELL 


1906 

TEXAS  PRTG.   CO. 
COPYRIGHT  APPLIED  FOR.  FORT  WOR FH 


^ancrof  t  Library 


INTRODUCTION. 


These  reminiscences,  rescued  from  loss  by  the  family  scrap- 
book,  are  more  especially  published  to  please  those  who  knew 
the  people  and  the  incidents  of  our  Fort  Worth  frontier 
times. 

Should  this  object  be  attained  the  writer  will  be  gratified. 

He  dedicates  this  little  book  to  the  pioneers  of  Tarrant 
County  and  to  their  decendants. 

J.  C.  TERRELL. 


195062 


INDEX. 


Capt.  J.  C.  Terrell 4 

Killing  Hogs  in  Fort  Worth  and  the  Early  Days 7 

Looking  Backward * 9 

"There  Were  Giants  in  Those  Days"— E.  M.  Daggett  and  Rev.  M. 

Matthews 18 

Pranks  of  Lawyers^-Afterwards  Judge  J.  W.  Ferris  and  Col.  John  C. 

McCoy 22 

Story  of  Rev.  John  Denton  After  Whom  Denton  County,  Texas,  Was 

Named " 27 

Weatherford,  Texas,  in  the  Reconstruction  Days 31 

The  Onjy  Twenty  Dollar  Felony  Bond 34 

Why  Sam  Woody  Locked  His  Wagon  \Vheels  Every  Night 36 

The  Fort  Worth  "University '  38 

Nathaniel  Terry .  .  .  39 

Old  Paul  Tyler  and  His  Dog  '  'Sounder' ' 41 

My  First  Hunt  in  Tarrant  County ..." 44 

A  Mother's  Love — Swapping  Babies ...  46 

A  Short  Sketch  of  Thos.  P.  Ochiltree 48 

Quinine  in  the  Sixties 52 

Patriotism  in  the  Schools 55 

Shall  the  Whipping  Post  be  Revived? 56 

Jacob  Samuel  and  Lee  Chalmers 58 

Confederate  Reunion  in  Memphis 60 

Brother  Dehart's  Powerful  Prayer 63 

The  Charms  of  Music 66 

Pecan  Time  in  Birdville 69 

Uncle  John  Kinder,  the  Famous  Shot  and  Humanitarian 70 

Lewis  H.  Brown  Family 73 

Santa  Anna's  Silver  Wash  Basin 74 

Overland  Trip  to  California  in  '52  With  Extracts  From  My  Old  Diary. .  76 

The  Masonic  Bell  at  Fort  Worth 92 

In  Memoriam — J.  P.  Smith 94 

The  Soul— Poem .97 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Capt.  J.  C.  Terrell  and  Grandson 3 

Capt.  J.  C  Terrell's  Second  Law  Office  and  Capt.  M.  B.  Loyd's  First 

Bank ....  "  ..  .  .  4 

E.  M.  Daggett 8 

A.G.Walker 13 

James  Grimsley 17 

Edward  Hovenkamp 21 

J.  Samuel,  J.  C.  Terrell  and  Sam  Woody 26 

Gideon  Nance — Sixteen  Years  County  Clerk .  .  30 

Sam  Woody,  Howard  Peak,  E.  S.  Terrell,  J.  C.  Terrell,  Richard  King, 

Dan  Parker 35 

C.  B.  Daggett— Owned  the  First  Store  in  Tarrant  County 43 

Robt.  Tanahill — County  Judge 47 

'  'Uncle' '  Jack  Durrett — The  Fiddler 65 


CAPT.  J.  C.  TERRELL  AND  GRANDSON. 


CAPT.  J.  C.  TERRELL. 


Capt.  J.  C.  Terrell  landed  in  Fort  Worth  in  the  early 
50's,  and  this  is  a  sketch  of  his  second  law  office,  which  he 
has  had  removed  to  his  elegant  residence  on  the  Southwest 
Side,  as  a  kind  of  souvenir  of  these  old  days.  This  build- 
ing was  removed  from  Birdville,  the  former  County  seat. 
Like  Col.  Smith,  he  is  still  looking  backward  to  the  time 
when  Fort  Worth  was  a  baby,  and  he  acted  as  one  of  the 
fathers  of  the  foundling.  The  artist  kodaked  this  as  it 


CAPT.    J.    C.    TERRELL'S  SECOND    LAW   OFFICE   AND    CAPF    M    B    LOYD'S 

FIRST  BANK. 

stood  to  show  the  then  with  the  now.  Capt.  Terrell  laid; 
the  foundation  of  successful  life  in  this  old  building,  and^l 
we  cannot  chide  him  for  the  remembrance  of  his  old  friend." 
Capt.  M.  B.  Loyd  opened  his  bank  in  this  building  March  1, 
1873,  and  he  has  continued  in  this  business  from  that  day 
until  this,  being  now  president  of  the  First  National  Bank. 


CAPT.  J.  C.  TERRELL.  5 

Captain  Joseph  Christopher  Terrell  was  born  in  Sumner 
County,  Tenn.,  October  29,  1831,  while  his  father's  family 
was  en  route  from  Virginia  to  Missouri  to  seek  a  new 
home.  His  people  are  Virginians,  of  Quaker  descent.  His 
father,  Dr.  C.  J.  Terrell,  died  the  year  after  settling  at 
Booneville,  Cooper  County,  Mo.,  and  it  was  there  he  was 
reared.  He  studied  law  under  his  eldest  brother,  Alex- 
ander W.  Terrell,  then  at  St.  Joseph,  Mo.,  but  now  of 
Austin,  Tex.,  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  old  Texans,  and  late 
United  States  Minister  to  Turkey  under  Cleveland's  last 
administration.  At  the  early  age  of  20,  Young  Joe  joined 
the  Argonauts  in  quest  of  golden  fleece  on  the  Pacific  slope. 
For  five  years  he  floated  around  in  California  and 
Oregon,  a  child  of  fortune,  without  realizing  all  he 
expected,  for  the  memory  of  his  dear  old  mother  haunt- 
ed him,  and  so  he  made  for  the  Old  Dominion  and 
old  associations.  This  was  in  1856.  In  1857,  he  again 
turned  his  face  towards  the  Pacific  coast,  but  took 
in  his  brother  at  Austin.  After  a  brief  visit  there,  in 
February,  1857,  he  was  passing  through  this,  the  then  ham- 
let of  Fort  Worth,  on  his  way  back  to  California, 
and  here  met  his  old  school  fellow,  Dabney  C.  Dade,  now 
of  Springfield,  Mo.  This  settled  his  destiny.  They  were 
not  long  forming  the  law  partnership  of  Terrell  &  Dade, 
which  continued  here  till  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War. 
Dade  went  back  North.  Terrell,  though  voting  against 
secession,  did  an  act  which  commends  his  love  for  his  native 
Southland  stronger  than  in  ordinary  cases  of  patriotism — 
he  sided  with  his  people,  under  the  motto,  "My  country — 
may  she  ever  be  in  the  right;  but,  right  or  wrong,  my 
country."  He  recruited  a  company  here  in  this  place  and 
marched  down  Main  street — such  of  it  as  was  in  exist- 
ence then — and  joined  Waller's  battalion  as  Company  F, 
in  Green's  cavalry  brigade  of  Confederate  troops.  He 
took  part  in  the  many  battles  of  his  command  on  this  side 
of  the  great  river,  mainly  in  Louisiana  and  Texas,  and  came 
back  here  with  the  remnant  of  his  war-worn  veterans,  and 
began  life  anew  at  the  bottom  rung  of  the  ladder.  He 
is  an  optimist,  and  ever  finds  more  to  laugh  at  than  weep 


6  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

over,  well  remembering  what  another  has  written,  "Laugh, 
and  the  world  laughs  with  you;  but  weep,  and  you  weep 
alone."  He  is  president  of  the  Old  Settlers'  Association  of 
Tarrant  County. 

C.   C.  CUMMINGS. 


KILLING  HOGS  IN  FORT  WORTH  AND  THE  EARLY 

DAYS. 


"They  tell  me  that  I  am  the  oldest  real  estate  owner  in 
the  city.  The  corner  of  First  and  Main  streets  has  been  mine 
for  forty-eight  years.  Here,  three  years  before  the  Civil 
War,  with  the  aid  of  a  whipsaw,  my  schoolmate  and  part- 
ner, Dabney  C.  Bade  and  myself,  built  a  law  office — one- 
story  frame  building,  with  brick  chimneys  at  each  end  and 
an  open  passageway.  Here  Dade  and  myself  had  our  bache- 
lor home ;  slept  in  one  room,  law  office  in  the  other — hunting 
and  fishing  implements  mixed  with  law  papers  and  books 
scattered  around. 

"Tarrant  County  then  voted  about  700 — two  terms  of 
District  Court  a  year,  limited  to  one  week.  My  law  office 
was  here  until  1870.  M.  T.  Johnson,  Dade,  J.  P.  Smith  and 
myself  voted  with  Gen.  Sam  Houston  against  secession, 
which  only  carried  in  this  county  by  twenty-seven  majority. 
Dade  was  then  District  Attorney.  He  refused  to  take  the 
oath  to  the  Confederacy,  resigned,  and  went  to  Spring- 
field, Mo.,  where  he  now  lives.  I  accepted  from  Judge 
Divine  the  office  of  Confederate  receiver — after  a  while 
resigned  and  raised  a  cavalry  company — Company  F,  Wal- 
ler's Battalion,  Green's  Brigade — started  to  the  war  from 
this  corner  and  served  to  the  end,  then  returned  and  re- 
sumed business  at  the  old  stand.  It  was  here  I  had  my 
first  home.  My  oldest  child  was  born  here,  corner  First  and 
Main  streets. 

"There  was  no  hog  law  then.  I  built  a  smokehouse  and 
killed  ten  hogs,  averaging  225  pounds  each,  bought  a  butch- 
er's cleaver  and  block,  smoked  and  saved  the  meat  and 
made  two  barrels  of  soft  soap.  No  miser  ever  gloated  over 
hoarded  gold  as  I  did  over  that  wealth  of  meat.  I  never 
dreamed  of  parting  with  any  of  it,  although  there  were  only 
three  of  us  in  the  family.  I  was  39  years  old  when  I  mar- 
ried, and  had  for  several  years  been  fed  in  boarding  houses, 
and  wanted  a  full  meathouse,  hence  I  grieved  to  sell  meat 
or  lard.  The  pleasures  of  married  life  and  of  peace  can 
only  be  fully  realized  by  old  men  and  soldiers." 


: 


E.  M    DAGGETT. 


LOOKING  BACKWARD. 


In  1857  I  left  Austin  and  came  to  Fort  Worth  in  com- 
pany with  Col.  M.  T.  Johnson,  Dr.  (afterward  Governor) 
J.  W.  Throckmorton,  Charley  De  Morse  of  the  Clarksville 
Standard,  and  a  young  attorney  from  Virginia  named  Jor- 
dan, who  located  in  Parker  County.  The  Fort  then  had 
some  300  inhabitants,  nearly  all  white,  and  mostly  of  the 
border  States — that  is,  from  States  bordering  on  Mason 
and  Dixon's  line.  This  county,  and  a  long  strip  of  terri- 
tory north  of  Johnson  and  south  of  Denton  County,  con- 
stituted "Peter's  Colony,"  an  emigration  company  char- 
tered by  the  young  State  of  Texas,  managed  by  Hedgecoke, 
with  headquarters  in  Louisville,  Ky.  Under  the  act  of 
the  26th  of  August,  1857,  known  as  the  pre-emption  law, 
this  country  was  open  for  location,  survey  and  settlement 
by  actual  settlers.  I  came,  a  young  lawyer,  to  grow  up 
with  the  country.  The  nearest  railroad  was  over  200  miles 
distant.  Owing  to  the  liberal  homestead  provisions  in  the 
Constitution  of  1845,  since  made  more  liberal  and  definite 
by  the  Constitution  of  1876,  a  superior  class  of  early  settlers 
were  attracted  hither.  Business  men  who  had  failed  in 
other  States  came  here  with  the  remnants  of  their  fortunes 
and  secured  homes  and  property  free  from  the  writ  of 
scire  facias.  It  was  not  unusual  to  meet  higher  culture 
in  a  cabin  and  to  see  pianos  on  dirt  floors.  As  a  rule,  the 
foreigner  settled  in  the  North,  then,  objecting  to  our  "pe- 
culiar instaitution." 

As  for  a  law  office,  none  was  to  be  had  for  love  or  money. 
I  hired  a  man  named  John  Branon,  and  in  a  few  weeks  had 
a  two-room  office  building,  with  chimneys,  on  the  corner 
of  First  and  Main  streets.  The  timbers  were  cut  with  a 
whipsaw.  Office  in  one  end — sleeping  room  in  the  other — 
and  the  "hall'  was  used  for  saddle,  fishing  tackle,  etc.  Hos- 
pitality was  only  30c  per  gallon,  with  corn  stoppers.  This 
property  I  yet  own. 

Judge  Dabney  C.  Dade,  now  of  Springfield,  Mo.,  and  who 
formerly  had  been  secretary  for  Gov.  Joe  Lane,  first  Gov- 


10  EARLY  DATS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

ernor  of  Oregon,  came  also  in  1857.  He  had  been  my 
schoolmate,  and  we  became  law  partners.  Both  were  bach- 
elors; society  was  decidedly  exclusive.  The  sexes  were  di- 
vided in  meeting,  sitting  on  opposite  sides  of  the  house, 
the  women  with  "heads  covered,"  but  with  no  chicken  or 
bird  feathers  on  their  bonnets. 

Being  strangers,  we  made  poor  progress  in  making  our 
way  with  the  girls,  and  so,  tiring  of  hunting,  fishing  and  of 
Oldhams  &  White's  digest,  and  of  the  long  Sundays,  and 
as  we  both  loved  Sunday  school,  I  suggested  to  Dabney  that 
we  start  one  and  break  the  social  ice.  He  boarded  with 
Mrs.  W.  T.  Ferguson;  I,  with  Mrs.  Lawrence  Steel,  where 
the  concrete  hotel  afterward  stood.  Dabney  was  a  "disciple 
of  the  Christian  order,"  and  on  occasion  could  pray  and 
"pitch  and  carry  a  tune."  It  seems  to  me  that  the  girls 
were  prettier  then.  Their  meek  eyes  and  bright  faces  haunt 
me  still,  and  then,  their  dresses  were  of  reasonable  length. 
Oh !  the  halcyon  days  of  youth !  Melodions,  stately  organs 
and  pretty  soloists  appeared  afterward  to  help  us  worship 
God.  As  for  myself  I  was  "unattached,"  but  gave  val- 
uable service  teaching  the  Bible  class ;  was  well  up  in  faiths, 
baptisms,  and  was  specially  versed  in  Revelations.  We 
bought  a  desk  and  books  and  subscribed  for  Sunday  School 
Union  literature.  We  had  a  prosperous  and  profitable  time, 
broke  the  ice  and  got  acquainted  with  the  girls,  and  Sundays 
became  too  short  then.  And  thus  the  establishment  of  our 
first  Sunday  school  in  Fort  Worth. 

Of  course,  when  the  real  "cloth"  appeared,  Dabney  and 
myself  retired  from  office,  but  stuck  to  the  Sunday  school 
as  the  "nursery  of  the  church." 


Bill  Seburn's  Conversion. 

Had  Clarence  S.  Darrow  witnessed  reconstruction  in  the 
South,  he  would  more  fervently  deprecate  nearly  all  penal 
laws  and  "Resist  Not  Evil"  would  perhaps  be  a  stronger 
book. 

In  1867,  when  a  pocket  pistol  constituted  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  every  Southern  gentleman's  attire,  and 
when  excellent  Robertson  County  (Kentucky)  goods,  sup- 


LOOKING  BACKWARD.  11 

plemented  with  Tuck  Boaz'  and  Jud  Roland's  moonshine, 
sold  in  our  markets  overt  at  a  reasonable  figure,  every  man 
was  a  law  unto  himself.  While  ordinarily  human  life  was 
held  rather  cheaply,  lynch  law,  for  aggravated  offenses  for 
many  reasons  necessarily  and  rightfully  obtained.  Justice 
did  not  travel  with  leaden  feet,  and  taxes  were  nominal. 
Two  crimes  were  never  condoned — theft  of  horses  and  dis- 
turbance of  religious  worship.  They  were  severely  pun- 
ished, without  the  benefit  of  clergy. 

There  then  lived  on  Village  Creek,  in  Tarrant  County, 
one  Bill  Seburn,  a  large  man  with  a  heart  as  big  as  a  court 
house.  He  had  been  a  good  soldier,  was  freckle-faced,  with 
sorrel,  bushy  hair.  He  occasionally  indulged.  His  truth 
was  found  at  the  bottom  of  a  bottle,  and  when  Bill  so 
found  it  he  invariably  exploded  with  voice  and  pistol,  not 
to  injure,  but  merely  to  celebrate.  He  then  became  unto 
himself  a  small  Fourth  of  July. 

An  old-fashioned  Southern  Methodist  camp  meeting,  led 
by  Capt.  (Rev.)  W.  G.  Veal,  afterwards  first  commander  of 
R.  E.  Lee  Camp,  was  being  held  at  Henderson  Springs,  on 
Village  Creek.  Early  Sunday  morning  found  me  there.  A 
large  brush  arbor  and  a  number  of  tents  and  wagons  argued 
a  big  meeting.  From  near  a  grove  a  man  mysteriously 
beckoned  me  to  approach.  I  cautiously  obeyed,  and  when  he 
turned  I  recognized  Bill,  who  appeared  with  a  day-before- 
yesterday  haggard  look,  and  with  troubled  face  and  averted 
eyes,  he  slowly  said:  "Cap,  yesterday  at  the  Fort,  at  old 
Ed.  Terrell's,  I  tanked  up  on  whisky  and  started  home  with 
a  full  bottle.  Passing  here  I  saw  two  or  three  men  and  a 
lot  of  women  holding  a  prayer  meeting.  I  rode  under  the 
arbor,  and  just  for  fun  shot  into  the  brush  overhead.  I 
don't  remember  exactly,  but  my  wife  told  me  all.  Oh,  it 
is  awful!  What  shall  I  do?"  I  told  him  that  from  a  legal 
view  there  was  no  hope,  that  no  one  was  ever  acquitted 
in  Texas  of  that  crime  proven.  I  asked  him  what  church 
his  wife  belonged  to.  With  a  deprecatory  nod  toward  the 
camp  he  answered:  "That  shebang  over  there."  Seeing 
that  he  was  contrite  and  enhungered,  I  advised  him  to 
about-face  on  his  sins  and  join  that  church.  Looking  quick- 


12  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

ly  up,  as  with  newly  inspired  hope,  he  answered,  "You 
reckon?" 

The  day  meeting  was  not  a  success,  but  at  night,  after 
a  "powerful  sermon"  from  the  text,  "The  harvest  is  passed, 
the  summer  is  ended,  and  I  am  not  saved,"  succeeded  by  a 
prayer  from  a  gifted  woman,  in  a  wierd  and  shrill  voice, 
uncapping  hell  and  dwarfing  Dante's  "Inferno"  itself,  and 
a  call  for  mourners  with  the  hymn,  "Show  Pity,  0,  Lord; 
0,  Lord,  Forgive."  Imagine  my  surprise  at  seeing  Bill 
approach  the  altar,  followed  by  neighbors  and  happy  breth- 
ren. The  very  biggest  brand  had  been  snatched  from  the 
burning. 

Bill  proved  true  to  his  vows,  is  now  in  the  Panhandle  of 
glorious  Texas,  with  cattle  on  a  hundred  hills,  and  is  begirt 
with  numerous  children. 

Justice  Grimsley  took  no  cognizance  of  the  offense.  The 
grand  jury  failed  to  indict.  Hence  Poe,  mentor  of  the  Cross 
Timbers,  stood  mute,  and  I  lost  a  fee.  "So  let  the  Lord  be 
thanked." 


Concerning  Sam  Houston. 

In  1857  Gen.  Sam  Houston,  while  yet  a  member  of  the 
United  States  Senate,  ran  for  Governor  of  Texas  against 
Hardin  R.  Runnels,  the  Democratic  nominee,  whose  compet- 
itor in  convention  was  M.  T.  Johnson  of  Tarrant  County. 
Many  of  Houston's  friends  were  alienated  from  him  be- 
cause of  his  presenting  in  the  Senate  the  famous  preachers' 
petition,  calling  them  "10,000  vice-regents  of  heaven," 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  and 
in  the  forts,  arsenals  and  dock  yards  of  the  United  States. 
Runnels  was  rather  an  ordinary  man,  a  large  slaveholder. 
He  beat  Houston  8,924  votes  out  of  a  total  of  56,190.  Two 
years  thereafter  Houston  beat  Runnels  for  the  same  office 
by  about  6,000  votes.  This  was  on  the  eve  of  secession, 
and  Houston  was  a  pronounced  Union  man. 

In  1860,  Houston  being  Governor,  Texas,  by  about  a 
two-thirds  vote,  seceded  from  the  Federal  Union.  The 
Legislature  and  the  secession  convention  were  in  session 
at  Austin  at  the  same  time.  Gen.  Houston  and  his  secre- 


LOOKING  BACKWARD. 


13 


tary  of  state,  Mr.  Cave,  refused  to  support  the  new  Gover- 
nor, and  were  deposed.  Houston  died  in  Huntsville  in  1863, 
of  a  broken  heart.  During  his  administration  Col.  John 
P.  Smith  and  myself  were  in  Austin  on  private  business. 
We  both  voted  against  secession  and  were  enthusiastic  ad- 
mirers of  the  Governor.  On  his  invitation,  Peter  and 
I  spent  several  days  in  the  executive  office  in  the  old 
Capitol.  He  saw  that  we  loved  him,  and  even  greatness 
covets  admiration.  He  was  a  born  ruler  of  men,  over  six 


A.  G    WALKER 

feet  two  inches  tall,  straight  as  an  arrow  and  modeled  like 
a  kingly  Adonis.  He  was  kind  and  considerate  to  all, 
especially  so  to  young  men;  dressed  plainly,  wore  a  broad- 
brim wool  hat,  with  a  fawnskin  waistcoat  and  walked  with 
cane  of  his  own  making.  He  was  an  inveterate  whittler, 
and  presented  W.  B.  Tucker  and  myself  with  souvenirs  of 
his  handiwork.  He  was  a  great  admirer  of  Gen.  Andrew 
Jackson,  his  political  father,  whom  I  well  remember,  hav- 


14  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

ing  been  presented  to  him  by  my  grandfather  in  1845,  the 
year  he  died.  My  grandfather  was  a  Whig,  and  an  army 
contractor  in  the  war  of  1812.  He  would  never  silently 
hear  Jackson  abused,  saying  that  "patriotism  ranks  poli- 
tics." 

Gen.  Houston  belonged  to  the  Baptist  Church,  and  in  look- 
ing at  this  grand,  benevolent  and  godlike  man,  it  was  not 
hard  to  realize  that  he  traveled  700  miles  from  his  Indian 
home  to  cane  Congressman  Stanberry  in  Washington,  who 
had  slandered  him,  and  this  with  the  consent  of  a  Tennessee 
delegation,  including  James  K.  Polk,  afterward  President. 


Tarrant  County  Seat  Fight. 

These  were  the  halcyon  days  of  young  manhood  to  Peter 
Smith  and  myself,  both  being  of  the  same  age.  We  were  in 
Austin  when  the  Fort  Worth  and  Birdville  County  seat 
question,  thought  to  be  settled,  was  again  sprung  by  Col. 
A.  G.  Walker,  Senator  from  this  county.  Walker  was  a 
client  of  mine,  a  native  of  Virginia,  and  came  to  Peter's 
Colony  from  Kentucky.  He  had  been  a  school  teacher  and 
district  surveyor;  a  good  citizen,  though  pertinacious  even 
to  stubbornness;  he  never  surrendered  nor  yielded  a  point. 
Dr.  J.  W.  Throckmorton  of  Collin  County,  afterward  Gov- 
ernor, was  Fort  Worth's  leading  friend  in  the  House.  This 
question  had  cost  the  life  of  more  than  one  good  man,  and 
the  State  in  legislation,  $30,000.  When  the  question  was 
sprung  I  was  booked  for  a  masquerade  ball  and  was  to 
personify  a  Franciscan  monk.  I  was  adapted  for  that  roll, 
having  even  then  a  clearing  on  my  head,  and  my  rotund 
figure  was  suggestive  of  a  monastic  life.  But,  hearing 
from  Peter  that  the  county  question  was  to  be  heard  that 
night  by  the  joint  committee,  the  ball  as  to  me  was  rele- 
gated, and  Peter  and  I  delved  into  a  cart  full  of  legis- 
lative papers  from  this  county  and  held  up  the  hands  of  our 
noble  leader,  M.  T.  Johnson  against  Walker  and  Dr.  B.  F. 
Barclay.  The  committee  sat  nearly  all  night  and  reported 
a  compromise  bill  involving  another  election,  which  event- 
uated in  locating  the  county  seat  permanently  at  Fort 
Worth.  Requiescat  in  pace! 


LOOKING  BACKWARD  15 

M.  T.  Johnson  was  the  father  of  Tarrant  County,  as  E. 
M.  Daggett  was  the  father  of  Fort  Worth,  his  face  being  on 
our  city  seal.  Both  were  grand  men  physically,  morally 
and  mentally.  The  former  weighed  225  pounds,  the  latter 
275.  Johnson  was  physically  the  strongest  man  I  ever 
knew.  Neither  of  them  was  exemplary  or  saintly,  yet  both 
were  to  us  old  settlers  veritable  heroes.  We  loved 
them  for  the  manifold  good  they  did,  and  long  years  ago 
have  buried  their  foibles.  Both  were  good  Masons. 

After  all  the  pains  historians  take,  how  imperfect  their 
labors !  Take  these  two  men  and  Jonas  Harrison,  for  whom 
Harrison  County  was  named.  Neither  is  mentioned  in  the 
"Encyclopedia  of  the  New  Southwest,"  nor  in  "The  In- 
dian Wars  and  Pioneers  of  Texas."  A  lesson  to  us  old  ones 
of  today,  who  should  continue  to  hew  to  the  line,  and  if 
the  future  names  us  commendably,  well;  if  not,  we  are  in 
good  company. 


Local  Government  After  War. 

Just  after  the  close  of  our  Civil  War,  far  more  cruel  and 
devastating  than  other  wars,  we  of  Tarrant,  like  all  other 
counties,  were  without  any  local  form  of  government  what- 
ever. From  former  decisions  and  from  the  very  nature  of 
things,  we  knew  that  de  facto  government  existed  with  us, 
but  the  people  at  large  were  unsettled  as  to  our  exact  legal 
status.  For  instance,  marrying  people  wanted  to  know 
that  a  license  issued  by  a  de  facto  county  clerk  was  indeed 
and  in  truth  valid.  A  mistake  might  be  horrible,  and  might 
be  irremediable.  Civil  law  must  obtain.  It  was  a  ques- 
tion of  bread  and  meat  to  us  attorneys.  By  the  reconstruc- 
tion laws  of  Congress  nearly  all  the  intelligence  of  the 
country  was  barred  from  office  and  disfranchised,  hence 
we  were  restricted  to  the  aged  and  carpetbaggers.  So,  at 
the  instance  of  several  good  people,  Edward  Hovenkamp  of 
Birdville,  who  had  been  District  Attorney  in  war  times,  and 
I  went  to  Austin,  and  there  we  two  held  an  election 
and  named  a  full  set  of  county  officers.  Arriving  in  Austin, 
I  saw  Provisional  Gov.  A.  J.  Hamilton,  my  brother's  old 
law  partner,  who  left  Texas  in  1861,  and  was  made  a  Briga- 


16  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

dier  General  in  the  Union  Army,  but  never  saw  active  serv- 
ice. In  1859  he  was  elected  to  Congress  over  Gen.  Thomas  N. 
Waul,  who  organized  Waul's  Legion.  Texas  was  then  en- 
titled to  but  two  members  of  Congress.  Both  were  fine  orat- 
ors, the  former  a  rough,  the  latter  a  finished  ashler.  Hamilton 
was,  by  a  few  votes,  beaten  for  Speaker  of  the  House  by  Gen. 
N.  P.  Banks,  who  at  Mansfield  and  Brashear  City,  La.,  we 
called  our  "Confederate  Quartermaster  of  subsistence." 
Gov.  Hamilton  gave  me  a  pencil  note  to  his  provisional  Sec- 
retary of  State,  Judge  James  Bell,  whom  I  well  knew.  He 
was  a  native  Texan  and  had  been  on  the  Supreme  Bench. 
We  handed  the  note  to  Judge  Bell,  he  at  once  asked  for  a 
list  of  names  for  appointment.  We  retired  and  returned 
him  a  list.  The  next  morning  the  Judge  handed  me  the 
commissions,  signed  and  sealed.  Among  them  were  County 
Judge  Stephen  Terry,  County  Clerk  G.  Nance,  District 
Clerk  Louis  H.  Brown,  who  was  an  aged  man,  his  wife 
being  Miss  Patterson  of  Maryland,  sister-in-law  of  Jerome 
Bonaparte,  brother  of  the  great  Napoleon.  Mr.  Brown  was 
an  elegant,  hospitable  gentleman  of  the  old  school.  He 
came  here  in  1858  with  an  accomplished  family  and  a  few 
negroes  and  settled  on  Marine  Creek.  His  son,  Horatio, 
was  a  member  of  my  company. 


JAMES  GRIMSLEY 


'THERE   WERE    GIANTS    IN    THOSE    DAYS"— E.    M. 
DAGGETT  AND  REV.  M.  MATTHEWS. 


"All  nations  have  a  patron  saint,  and  every  State  its 
heroes." 

The  early  settlers  of  Northwest  Texas  were  not  without 
great  men.  I  recall  the  names  of  Captain  Ephriam  M. 
Daggett  and  Dr.  Mansell  Matthews.  Both  were  large  men, 
each  weighing  about  275  pounds.  Both  were  intellectually 
great,  and  were  born  leaders  of  men.  The  face  of  the  for- 
mer appears  upon  our  city  seal,  placed  there  in  1873.  Dag- 
gett was  born  in  Canada  and  died  here  in  1883.  He  was 
the  leading  citizen  and  one  of  the  founders  of  Fort  Worth. 
He  lived  on  block  B  6,  between  Main  and  Houston  streets, 
where  he  dispensed  a  feudal  hospitality,  and  where,  in 
1855,  at  General  Sam  Houston's  request,  he  dressed,  with 
his  own  hands,  that  old  hero's  leg  that  was  wounded  at 
the  battle  of  San  Jacinto,  using  the  silver  basin  which  Dag- 
gett captured  from  General  Santa  Anna  at  the  battle  of 
Buena  Vista,  and  which  Mrs.  Josephine  Ryan  now  owns. 
He  loved  our  Union,  and  in  1883  came  from  near  Niagara 
Falls  to  the  site  of  Chicago,  Illinois,  with  his  mother  and 
his  brothers,  Henry  and  Charles,  and  Mrs.  W.  M.  McKee, 
all  of  whom,  aged  and  respected,  died  in  this  county.  He 
came  to  the  Republic  of  Texas  in  1840.  A  Unitarian  in 
belief,  he  loved  the  "Mother  Church,"  and  gave  to  the  Catho- 
lics the  land  upon  which  their  stone  church  building  stands. 
He  was  captain  of  a  company  of  Texas  volunteers  in  the 
Mexican  war,  and  served  with  distinction  with  Colonel 
(Captain)  Jack  Hayes,  whom  I  knew  in  1852  in  San  Fran- 
cisco. In  1861  he  voted  for  the  ordinance  of  secession, 
which  carried  in  Tarrant  County  by  a  majority  of  only 
27  out  of  800  voted  polled;  D.  C.  Dade  and  M.  T.  Johnson 
being  defeated,  and  Nathaniel  Terry  (formerly  Lieutenant 
Governor  of  Alabama) ,  and  Josiah  Cook,  of  Birdville,  being 
elected  delegates  to  the  State  Convention  which  deposed 
Governor  Sam  Houston  and  passed  the  ordinance  of  seces- 
sion. 


"THERE  WERE  GIANTS  IN  THOSE  DAYS."  1£ 

Dr.  Mansell  Matthews  was  a  highly  educated  physician, 
of  courtly  presence,  a  Christian  preacher  without  a  superior 
in  all  our  Southland.  He  had  been  County  Judge  of  Red 
River  County,  and  President  of  the  Board  of  Land  Com- 
missioners. He  and  Daggett  belonged  to  the  Masonic 
chapter  here,  and  were  bosom  friends.  Matthews  was  a 
Union  man,  too  outspoken  for  his  personal  safety.  He  was 
a  veritable  patriarch  of  the  olden  times,  and  annually  trav- 
eled with  his  family,  some  forty  in  number,  including 
slaves,  camping  out,  from  Red  River  County  to  near  Aus- 
tin, some  250  miles.  There  were  no  Indians  and  few 
fences  to  obstruct  his  march.  He  would  return  in  the 
Spring  with  the  rising  of  grass,  with  flock  and  herd.  He 
practiced  his  profession,  but  seldom  charged  for  services. 
His  was  a  nomadic  nature,  and  when  on  the  move  his  outfit 
was  like  a  caravan  of  the  great  desert.  People  came  from 
thirty  to  forty  miles  to  hear  him  expound  the  Word  and  re- 
ceive his  advice.  Above  all,  his  genial  good  nature  built  up 
and  strengthened  the  Christian  order  all  along  the  frontier. 
He  was  not  a  politician ;  loved  the  South,  but  made  no  secret 
of  his  Union  sentiments.  As  sectional  hatred  intensified, 
the  doctor's  real  trouble  commenced.  We  then  had  a  civil 
government  in  Texas,  which  existed  only  in  name.  The 
criminal  law  was  as  much  in  the  hands  of  vigilance  com- 
mittees as  was  that  of  China  in  the  hands  of  the  Boxers; 
but  I  must  say  it  was  rarely  abused.  It  would  not  do  for 
the  South  to  be  torn  by  internal  dissentions.  She 
could  not  afford  to  guard  Valandighams  with  troops  needed 
at  the  front.  The  high  vigilance  committee  court  was  held 
in  Gainesville,  Cook  County,  and  Dr.  Matthews  was,  by 
its  capias,  imprisoned  there  for  trial,  charged  with  treason 
to  the  Confederate  States  of  America.  Constant  Dodson 
presided  as  judge.  The  "Overt  Act"  clause  concerning 
treason,  in  the  State  Constitution,  had  been  changed  by 
legislative  action,  by  law  of  December  14,  1863,  making 
convictions  easier  by  new  definitions  of  the  crime.  The 
penalty  was  death,  and  few  accused  escaped.  Over  a  score 


20  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  TA  ORTH. 

of  his  fellow-prisoners,  no  more  guilty  than  himself,  were 
hung  near  and  in  plain  view  of  his  prison,  on  an  elm  tree. 
Daggett  got  word  from  Matthews,  and,  obeying  his  "mark," 
appeared  before  the  terrible  tribunal  in  his  behalf;  told 
them  that  Matthews  had  committed  no  overt  act  of  trea- 
son; that  his  heart  was  with  the  South,  his  mind  with  the 
North;  that  if  they  hung  Matthews  they  must  hang  him, 
too.  Matthews  was  acquitted  of  the  death  penalty,  but 
punished  by  imprisonment  for  three  days,  and  he  was,  by 
way  of  further  punishment,  to  receive  no  word  of  his  ac- 
quittal during  that  time.  Daggett  was  allowed  to  see  the 
prisoner,  but  only  in  the  presence  of  the  death  guard,  and 
was  strictly  enjoined  not  to  tell  the  prisoner  of  the  action 
of  the  court.  Daggett,  however,  determined  that  Dr. 
Matthews  should  know  that  his  life  was  saved,  and  told 
him  so  in  this  way.  He  talked  for  over  two  hours  on  the 
subject  of  death,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  of  repent- 
ance, faith,  predestination,  and  especially  on  the  absolute 
necessity  of  baptism  by  immersion  as  a  condition  precedent 
to  salvation,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  This  was  an  unheard  of  thing 
for  Daggett  to  do,  and  his  distressed  friend  wondered  what 
he  meant.  Of  course,  Matthews'  nerves  were  strung,  and 
he  was  intensely  on  the  qui  vive,  knowing  that  something 
ulterior  was  meant  by  Daggett.  Now  the  guard,  from  the 
long,  dry  talk  on  the  Bible,  became  listless  and  inattentive, 
when  Daggett  asked  Matthews  what  verse  in  the  Bible 
afforded  him  the  greatest  comfort  at  this  time,  and  in  turn 
Matthews  asked  Dagget  the  same  question,  to  which  Dag- 
get  replied:  "Fret  not  thy  gizzard,  and  frizzle  not  thy 
whirligig,  thou,  soul,  art  saved."  Matthews  asked  him  to 
give  chapter  and  verse  of  the  quotation,  which,  of  course, 
he  could  not  do.  After  some  other  conversation  the  doc- 
tor asked  him  to  repeat  the  verse,  the  doctor  significantly 
bowing  his  head,  knowing  that  his  life  was  saved,  but 
that  his  friend  was  forbidden  to  tell  him  so.  He  slept 
soundly  that  night.  Daggett  remained  in  Gainesville  three 
days,  and  restored  Matthews  to  his  family  on  Deer  Creek, 
in  this  county.  The  above  incident  I  had  from  the  lips  of 
both  parties." 


•:-. 


•  M 


EDWARD  HOVENKAMP. 


PRANKS  OF  LAWYERS— AFTERWARDS  JUDGE  J.  W. 
FERRIS  AND  COL.  JOHN  C.  M'COY. 


"Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  thought  upon, 
The  flames  of  love  extinguish'd 

And  freely  past  and  gone?" 

A  copy  of  Hartley's  Digest,  a  lignumvHae  inkstand,  pen 
and  handle,  a  good  mustang  and  lariat— these  were  neces- 
sary implements  of  trade  for  an  attorney-at-law  in  Texas 
in  the  fifties.  The  three-ring  circus  with  clown  attachment 
would  cease  to  attract  if  it  had  every  month  in  the  year. 
Our  great  times  were  few.  District  Court  held  only  twice 
a  year,  and  the  great  time  was  the  annual  coming  together 
of  attorneys  at  Austin  when  the  legislature  and  "the  Su- 
preme Court  were  in  session  at  the  same  time.  Then,  too, 
we  had  business  at  the  general  land  office,  now  nearly  func- 
tus  ofncio.  Nearly  all  traveled  by  private  conveyance, 
stage-coach  conveniences  being  limited  to  a  few  favored 
localities.  The  great  stage  artery  of  Texas  north  and  south 
passed  through  Sherman,  McKinney,  Dallas,  Waxahachie, 
Waco,  Austin  and  San  Antonio. 

Colonel  John  C.  McCoy  of  Dallas  in  1857  was  District 
Attorney  of  the  old  Sixteenth  Judicial  District.  Mac  was 
a  large,  jovial  man,  a  good  lawyer,  and  the  very  prince  of 
good  fellows;  a  practical  joker,  a  firm  believer,  though  un- 
attached. J.  W.  Ferris  of  "Waxahachie  was  one  of  the  best 
attorneys  in  the  state,  a  man  of  finished  education  and  ad- 
dress, tall  and  slender,  of  Pharaoh's  lean  kine,  and  was 
extremely  nervous.  He  was  a  man  of  staid  dignity  and  was 
a  member  of  the  "Church  South."  He  it  was  who  rendered 
the  famous  International  &  Great  Northern  railroad  de- 
cision, having  been  appointed  by  Governor  Coke  because  of 
an  evenly  divided  supreme  bench. 

In  the  early  days  the  visiting  bar  arrived  on  horseback 
in  Weatherford  one  hot  Saturday  evening  and  bathed  in  the 


PRANKS  OF  LAWYERS.  23 

Clear  Fork  just  north  of  Carter's  mill.  Roses  and  ferns 
lined  the  banks  and  the  water  was  beautifully  clear — a  dry 
branch  there  now. 

McCoy  and  Ferris  were  warm  personal  friends,  though 
wholly  unlike  each  other.  McCoy  that  evening  was  in 
high  glee,  and  gathering  the  resisting  naked  Ferris  in  his 
strong  arms,  proceeded  to  give  an  anatomical  lecture,  using 
Ferris  as  a  subject,  commencing  at  the  frontis  and  ending 
at  the  pedal  extremities,  Ferris  wriggling  and  exclaiming 
in  vain,  "Unhand  me,  sir!  I  will  hold  you  personally  respons- 
ible," etc.  Governor  Throckmorton,  Nat  M.  Burford,  Char- 
ley De  Morse,  M.  Hawkins,  Amaziah  Bradshaw,  John  C. 
Easton,  John  J.  Good,  Joe  Carroll  and  others  enjoyed  the 
fun. 

The  following  winter  Colonel  McCoy,  journeying  from 
Dallas  to  Austin  in  a  large  Concord  coach  one  cold  winter 
night,  arrived  in  Waxahachie.  It  was  pitch  dark  and  the 
coach  was  full,  but  Ferris  managed  in  the  dark  to  crowd 
into  a  seat  just  opposite  to  McCoy,  their  knees  touching. 
He  did  not  recognize  his  tormentor  of  last  spring.  Several 
times  when  the  wheels  would  run  over  rocks  or  ruts  McCoy 
would  cry  out  in  pain,  violently  rubbing  his  knees.  After 
awhile  Ferris  being  nervous,  became  uneasy,  and  exclaim- 
ed "Sir,  you  seem  to  be  quite  nervous."  Mac  answered 
with  an  ugly  word,  "Anyone  would  be  nervous  to  have 
two  daggers  pierce  his  knees."  The  Judge  indignantly 
stopped  the  coach  and  took  a  seat  on  the  outside  with  the 
driver.  At  the  breakfast-stop  he  recgnized  his  tormenter 
and  resumed  his  seat  inside.  He  forgave,  but  never  for- 
got. 

*     *     * 

The  judge  often  played  even  with  Mac.  On  one  occa- 
sion they  were  leading  counsel  on  opposite  sides  of  an  im- 
portant land  case.  Mac  was  for  the  plaintiff,  and  gave  as 
his  thought  the  statutory  three  days'  written  notice  of 
his  intention  to  read  his  several  muniments  of  title  in  evi- 
dence. In  a  list  of  several  conveyances  he  had  omitted  one. 
After  consuming  several  hours  in  reading  his  title  papers, 
Mac  offered  in  evidence  the  omitted  deed.  Ferris  objected 


24  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

and  of  course  was  sustained  by  the  court.  Turning,  and 
politely  bowing  to  Mac,  Ferris  said:  "My  jokes,  though 
practical,  are  strictly  legal  and  always  pay."  Of  course 
the  plaintiff  broke  down,  but  on  payment  of  costs  was  grant- 
ed a  new  trial. 

"A  little  nonsense  now  and  then 

Is  relished  by  the  wisest  men." 

Just  after  the  Civil  War,  when  the  country  was  full  of 
cattle,  then  in  great  demand,  the  hotel,  here  in  Fort 
Worth,  was  full  of  cattle  buyers  from  the  North,  with  lots 
of  money.  Strangers  to  us  they  were  and  to  each  other, 
waiting  for  the  grass  to  rise.  They  were  an  uncommuni- 
cative set  and  all  dressed  with  the  regulation  six-shooter. 
There  were  only  three  home  boarders  at  the  hotel — Ben 
Bedford,  Walter  A.  Huffman  and  myself.  Judge  Ferris 
spent  a  few  days  at  the  hotel  preparing  his  cases  for  Dis- 
trict Court  commencing  the  following  Monday.  He  had 
just  returned  from  his  first  trip  North,  and  day  after  day 
at  the  dinning  table  recounted  over  and  over  to  admiring 
listeners  his  impressions  of  Niagara  Falls  and  so  forth. 
One  day  at  dinner  with  an  effort  I  got  the  floor  first  and  told 
the  Judge  that  I,  too,  had  just  returned  from  a  trip  from 
inside  the  enemy's  lines,  that  when  I  got  to  Galveston  I. 
rode  on  a  great  squatty  coach  that  ran  on  iron  rails  and 
about  fifty  people  were  hauled  on  it  by  two  small  mules. 
The  Judge,  talking  from  his  boots,  remarked:  "Yes,  yes — 
street  car."  I  answered,  "Yes,  that  is  what  they  called  it." 
Continuing,  I  told  him  that  returning  home  I  missed  the 
connection  at  Louisville  and  stopped  over  at  the  Gault 
House,  that  they  took  me  into  a  little  room,  carpeted,  and 
with  a  sofa  in  it,  that  a  man  pulled  a  rope  and,  up,  up  I  went 
without  a  jar.  The  Judge  remarked,  "An  elevator."  I 
answered  "Yes,  that  is  what  they  called  it."  Continuing,  I 
told  him  that  a  man  lit  a  match  on  sand-paper  on  the  wall 
in  the  dark  hall  and  unwound  a  piece  of  iron  like  a  coffee- 
mill  handle,  touched  the  lighted  match  to  it,  and  behold, 
from  the  very  iron  sprang  a  most  brilliant  light.  The  Judge 
remarked,  "That  was  gas."  I  remarked,  as  I  rose  hastily 
from  the  table,  "Yes,  Judge,  that  is  exactly  what  they  called 


PRANKS  OF  LAWYERS.  26 

it."  As  I  retreated,  those  hitherto  silent  cowmen  howled 
and  howled.  I  got  half  way  across  the  square  before  the 
Judge  from  the  porch  called  me  back.  I  tried  to  explain, 
but  it  wouldn't  wash. 


J    SAMUEL,  J.  C.  TERRELL  AND  SAM  WOODY. 


STORY    OF    REV.    JOHN    DENTON    AFTER    WHOM 
DENTON  COUNTY,  TEXAS  WAS  NAMED. 

Dr.  Ash  N.  Denton  died  at  his  residence  in  Austin  on 
the  6th  instant. 

This  announcement  awakened  memories  long  dormant. 
In  1858,  while  an  orphan  boy,  Denton  lived  in  Weather- 
ford.  A  saloonkeeper  there,  named  Big  Jim  Curtis, 
abused  him,  a  fight  with  revolvers  ensued,  resulting  in 
Curtis'  death.  Denton  obtained  a  change  of  venue  and  was 
tried  and  acquitted  in  Buchanan,  then  the  county  seat  of 
Johnson  County.  Denton  came  to  Fort  Worth,  where  he 
was  elected  Justice  of  the  Peace;  commenced  reading  law 
with  A.  Y.  Fowler,  but  afterwards  studied  medicine  with 
Dr.  Calvin  M.  Peak,  the  son  of  Captain  Peak,  the  Mexican 
war  veteran  of  Dallas  County,  and  graduated  in  Galveston 
medical  school  in  1861.  He  was  married  here  to  a  most  beau- 
tiful and  accomplished  lady,  Miss  Maggie  Murchison,  who 
survives  him.  He  located  at  or  near  San  Marcos;  from  there 
he  moved  to  Austin  and  took  charge  of  the  insane  asylum 
as  superintendent  during  Governor  Ireland's  two  adminis- 
trations. In  1898,  I  with  my  two  brothers,  called  on  ex- 
Governor  F.  M.  Lubbock,  who  was  sick.  Doctor  Denton 
was  his  physician,  and  I  saw  him  there  for  the  last  time. 

The  following  I  state  from  memory,  told  me  by  John  C. 
McCoy,  deceased,  of  Dallas.  McCoy  was  surveyor  of  the 
Peters  Colony  company  in  the  days  of  the  Republic  of 
Texas  and  was  afterward  District  Attorney  of  the  Six- 
teenth Judicial  District. 

Denton  County  was  named  in  honor  of  Captain  John 
R.  Denton,  the  father  of  Dr.  Ash  Denton.  He  was 
a  most  remarkable  man,  an  attorney,  a  Methodist 
preacher  and  a  distinguished  Indian  fighter;  was  killed 
by  the  Comanche  Indians  on  Rush  Creek,  this  county, 
near  where  the  Texas  and  Pacific  Railroad  crosses  that 
stream.  McCoy  said  that  he  never  heard  his  equal  as  an 
orator.  For  a  frivolous  cause  he  separated  from  his  wife 


28  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

in  Arkansas.  She  went  to  Fayetteville  and  there  established 
a  little  millinery  store.  One  night  a  merchant,  a  man  of 
wealth  and  local  influence,  on  attempting  to  enter  her 
room,  was  shot  and  killed  by  Mrs.  Denton.  She  was  in- 
dicted for  murder  and  imprisoned.  It  was  generally  thought 
that  on  account  of  the  influence  of  the  prosecution  and  of 
the  desperado  friends  of  the  deceased  Mrs.  Denton  would 
be  convicted.  On  the  day  of  the  trial  the  court  room  was 
densely  crowded  with  spectators.  The  presiding  judge 
asked  the  defendant  if  she  had  an  attorney  to  defend  her. 
She  answered:  "No;  I  have  no  attorney  and  no  friends." 
A  stranger  to  all,  sitting  inside  the  bar  arose,  gazing  in- 
tently into  her  face,  said :  "No,  not  without  friends.  If  it 
please  your  honor,  I  will  appear  for  the  defendant,  if  ac- 
ceptable to  her  and  to  the  court." 

She  recognized  her  husband  in  the  stranger,  who,  being 
unknown,  exhibited  his  license  to  the  court,  and  the  trial 
proceeded.  The  facts  were  plain.  Her  counsel  seemed  ab- 
stracted and  asked  the  prosecuting  witnesses  but  few  per- 
tinent questions.  The  State's  attorney,  an  able  advocate, 
made  a  strong  effort,  and  many  trembled  for  the  fate  of 
the  beautiful  defendant.  When  he  had  finished  his  open- 
ing address  Denton  arose  to  reply.  He  discussed  the  law 
of  murder  in  its  various  degrees,  and  the  law  of  self-defense 
as  applicable  to  the  evidence  in  the  case.  In  manner  he 
was  as  calm,  cool  and  emotionless  as  if  he  were  an  ani- 
mated marble  statue.  But  every  point  he  made  was  as 
clear  as  the  noonday  sun,  and  he  spoke  as  he  shot — to  the 
center  every  time.  And  his  very  impassiveness  seemed  to 
carry  conviction.  The  first  emotion  he  displayed  was  in 
his  peroration,  when,  resting  his  eyes  upon  the  defendant, 
he  said  in  part:  "Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  look  upon  the 
defendant.  Scan  that  pure  face  and  behold  something 
dearer  to  me  than  life,  and  more  precious  to  me  than  all 
things  else  under  the  blue  canopy  of  heaven.  Need  I  tell 
you  that  she  is  my  wife.  I  could  as  easily  believe  an  angel 
guilty  of  crime  as  my  wife.  She  never  had  an  impure 
thought  in  her  life.  It  is  true  that  whilst  no  woman  was 
ever  gentler  or  more  kind-hearted  or  more  faithful  and 


STORY  OF  REV.  JOHN  DENTON  29 

affectionate  wife,  she,  with  a  courage  born  of  virtue  and 
innocence,  slew  the  ruffian  who  would  have  desecrated  my 
fireside.  And  for  this  worthy  deed  of  a  noble  woman  I 
honor  and  love  her  more  than  ever.  Thank  God  for  hav- 
ing blessed  me  with  such  a  wife." 

Concluding,  he  advanced  toward  the  defendant,  and,  ex- 
claimed: "No,  not  without  a  friend,  little  woman,"  and, 
extending  his  arms,  "behold  in  me  you  have  more  than  a 
friend — a  husband!" 

She  sprang  to  his  breast  amid  the  tears  and  acclaims  of 
the  people  and  the  cries  of  the  sheriff  for  "order  in  the 
cuort!"  The  jury,  looking  to  the  right  and  left  and  talking 
to  each  other,  without  leaving  their  box,  returned  instanter 
a  verdict  of  "Not  guilty."  The  friends  of  the  prosecution 
were  immediately  conspicuous  by  their  absence. 

Captain  Denton  and  wife  then  moved  to  Clarksville, 
Texas.  A  full  account  of  this  trial  was  published  over 
forty  years  ago  by  Charley  De  Morse  in  his  Clarksville 
Standard. 


GIDEON    NANCE. 
Sixteen  Years  County  Clerk. 


WEATHERFORD,    TEXAS    IN    THE    RECONSTRUC- 
TION DAYS. 


"Lull'd  in  the  countless  chambers  of  the  brain, 
Our  thoughts  are  linked  by  many  a  hidden  chain ; 
Awake  but  one,  and  lo,  what  myriads  rise! 
Each  stamps  its  image  as  the  other  flies." 

A  few  days  ago,  accompanied  by  two  dark  horses  and 
a  number  of  friends  interested  in  the  Congressional  con- 
vention I  found  myself  in  the  court  house  at  Weatherford, 
Texas,  more  liberal  to  Parker  than  to  her  other  counties, 
gave  her,  at  her  organization  in  '56-7,  a  tract  of  land  on 
which  Weatherford  is  built,  and  with  the  proceeds  of  the 
sale  of  lots  the  county  erected  quite  a  handsome  brick  court 
house  in  the  center  of  the  public  square,  where  the  present 
more  pretentious  building  stands.  Our  delegation  sat  in 
the  center  of  the  court  room,  and  thus  was  brought  "the 
light  of  other  days  around  me." 

In  the  fall  of  1859,  within  a  few  feet  of  this  spot,  there 
were  suspended  from  the  ceiling  several  rows  of  Indian 
scalps,  with  bows,  shields,  spears,  etc.,  while  under  ard 
around,  to  the  time  of  sweet  music,  we  traced  the  light  • 
fantastic  in  many  mazy  sets.  John  R.  Baylor  and  his 
brother,  George,  with  others,  had  whipped  the  Indians; 
these  scalps,  etc!,  were  the  proof,  and  cause  of  rejoicing, 
for  Parker  County  was  then  often  raided  by  Comanches. 
The  Civil  War  ensued,  when  the  frontier  was  never  so 
well  guarded.  It  was  the  least  dangerous  and  most  popu- 
lar service  in  the  Confederacy.  Provisional  Governor  A. 
J.  Hamilton  appointed  R.  W.  Scott,  of  Johnson  County,  Dis- 
trict Judge.  He  held  the  first  term  of  the  District  Court 
for  Parker  County  after  the  close  of  the  war,  in  the  spring 
of  1866.  H.  H.  Sneed  was  District  Attorney,  and  David 
Yeary,  foreman  of  the  grand  jury.  The  county  officers 
were :  W.  Frank  Carter,  County  Judge ;  R.  W.  Duke,  Coun- 
ty Clerk;  Joseph  W.  Anderson,  District  Clerk;  D.  B.  Luckey, 
Sheriff,  and  Dr.  E.  Milliken,  Treasurer.  The  local  attor- 


32  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

neys  were:  A.  J.  Hood,  Daniel  0.  Norton,  H.  S.  Coleman, 
Simon  Sugg,  H.  H.  McLean,  C.  L.  Jordan,  A.  J.  Ball  and  R. 
J.  McKenzie.  The  visiting  attorneys  were  Joe  Carroll,  J.  C. 
Easton,  Joe  Eushing,  John  J.  Goode,  Joe  Bledsoe,  H.  G. 
Hendricks,  Ed.  Hovenkamp,  J.  C.  Terrell  and  M.  Hawkins. 

Under  the  advice  of  that  great  and  good  man,  General 
Sam  Houston,  peace  and  plenty  reigned  in  Texas  during 
the  war.  Not  so  in  the  divided  border  States.  During  the 
whole  struggle  criminal  laws  were  uninterruptedly  admin- 
istered; the  laws  of  limitation  were  by  legislative  enact- 
ment suspended  between  the  28th  day  of  January,  1861, 
and  the  13th  day  of  March,  1870.  True,  in  some  sections 
vigilance  committees,  composed,  as  a  rule,  of  the  very  best 
elderly  men,  existed.  Having  neither  money,  credit  nor 
manufactories,  the  people  were  in  a  primitive  condition. 
Health,  courage  and  hope  were  left.  Horses  and  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills  she  had.  These  could  walk  to  market. 
Then,  too,  she  had  free  grass  and  no  taxation.  Soon  better 
times  dawned.  The  dream  which  said,  "Arise,  Peter,  slay" 
and  eat,"  to  him  a  convenient  dream,  was  to  our  people 
a  glorious  reality.  Thousands  of  unbranded  and  unclaimed 
cattle  abounded.  Even  boys  ran  branding  irons  with  mar- 
velous success. 

Soon  there  was  a  general  desire  to  resume  the  reign  of 
law  and  order.  Norton  was  appointed  Judge  of  the  Six- 
teenth Judicial  District,  which  embraced  Parker  County. 
.  He  was  an  old  editor,  an  intelligent,  good  man,  but  an  indiff- 
erent lawyer.  He  swore  in  1844  that  he  would  not  shave 
his  face  until  Henry  Clay  was  elected  president,  and  kept 
his  oath.  He  loved  Texas,  and  was  good  to  Confederate 
prisoners  in  Ohio,  and  this  atoned  for  many  sins.  He  made 
a  good  officer  for  the  times,  which  were  queer,  peculiar 
and  without  precedent.  At  Norton's  first  term  in  Weather- 
ford  a  Federal  lieutenant  and  a  squad  of  men  camped  on  the 
hill  west  of  Carson  &  Lewis'  hotel.  The  Indians  gave  some 
trouble  then,  and  killed  a  man  on  the  Clear  Fork,  between 
Weatherford  and  Fort  Worth;  hence  the  attorneys  went 
from  Fort  Worth  in  a  body.  I  remember  the  following: 
M.  Hawkins,  Henry  Sneed,  J.  C.  Easton,  E.  Hendricks,  G. 


WEATHERFORD,  TEXAS.  33 

A.  Everetts  and  Ed.  Hovenkamp.  The  officers  then  in  Par- 
ker were  Sam  Milliken,  who  was  both  District  and  County 
Clerk;  Wes  Hendricks,  Sheriff;  Joe  Wilbarger,  County 
Judge,  and  H.  H.  Sneed,  District  Attorney.  The  local  at- 
torneys were  Charley  Jordan,  of  Lynchburg,  Va. ;  A.  J . 
Ball,  of  Kentucky;  A.  J.  Hood,  E.  W.  Hughes,  Joe  Wol- 
folk  and  S.  W.  T.  Lanham.  I  remember  being  one  of  a 
committee  of  attorneys  who  examined  Lanham  in  open 
court  on  his  application  for  license,  and  then  predicted  that 
he  would  some  day  be  Governor  of  Texas.  His  moral  char- 
acter was  so  good,  his  manners  so  genial,  and  his  answers 
to  questions  so  prompt  and  clear,  caused  us  all  to  love 
him,  who  was  then  the  "kid  of  the  bar." 

Uncle  Jimmy  Jones,  God  bless  him,  was  presiding  elder 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  and  on  the  Sun- 
day preceding  court  held  forth  in  Ike  McConnell's  long, 
dirt-floor  school  house,  located  north  of  the  square.  Lan- 
ham, a  devout  member  of  Uncle  Jimmy's  church,  caused  the 
visiting  bar  to  attend  the  meeting.  We  sat  together.  Uncle 
Jimmy  took  for  his  text,  "Woe  unto  you,  lawyers,  hypo- 
crites;" and  instead  of  applying  the  text  to  the  house  of 
Levi — his  own  cloth — he  applied  it  to  us  attorneys,  him- 
self having  had  a  good  time  "enduring  the  war."  He  want- 
ed no  courts,  and  was  in  favor  of  the  status  quo.  Note  the 
effect  of  that  sermon!  The  next  day  a  number  of  young 
men,  ex-Confederate  soldiers,  assembled  with  Enfield  rifles 
on  the  hill  north  of  town  and  bombarded  the  court  house 
square,  causing  many  to  hug  the  south  side  of  the  court 
house.  Fortunately  no  one  was  hurt. 

There  was  little  or  no  money  in  the  country.  I  remem- 
ber collecting  a  good  fee  in  peltry,  buffalo  and  other  hides, 
which  our  merchants  had  no  trouble  in  exchanging  for 
money. 

Weatherford  has  good  water,  from  the  same  sandstone 
formation  that  furnishes  our  supply,  but  needs  water  works 
sadly.  Abounding  in  good  church  buildings,  schools  and 
residences,  with  enterprise  her  future  is  assured.  She  has 
given  to  Texas  our  Sam  Lanham,  and  George  Clark,  now  of 
Waco.  May  her  new  generation  do  as  well ! 


THE  ONLY  TWENTY  DOLLAR  FELONY  BOND. 


No  one  served  the  people  of  Texas  with  greater  honor 
to  the  State  and  himself,  as  Supreme  Judge  and  Governor, 
than  did  the  old  Alcalde,  0.  M.  Roberts.  To  some  extent 
he  possessed  the  genius  of  the  great  Napoleon  in  selecting 
his  lieutenants.  Among  them  was  John  D.  Templeton,  his 
Attorney  General,  a  young  man  of  unusual  dignity,  with  a 
fine  legal  mind. 

It  was  my  good  fortune,  in  1869,  to  meet  young  Temple- 
ton  in  his  first  case.  It  was  in  an  examining  court  in  Tar- 
rant  County,  Texas,  James  Grimley,  Justice.  The  old  prac- 
tice of  ' 'taking"  cattle  was  fast  playing  out.  Defendant 
owned  no  cattle  but  had  collected  and  sold  several  small 
herds;  was  arrested  in  possession  of  some  forty  head,  to 
which  he  could  show  no  bill  of  sale.  It  was  a  hot  spring 
day.  The  examination  was  held  in  a  grove,  was  largely 
attended,  and  nearly  every  man  had  his  shotgun.  It  looked 
squally  for  the  defendant,  who  paid  me  all  his  money,  except 
a  twenty  dollar  gold  piece,  and  gave  me  a  written  promise 
for  a  set  of  house  logs. 

The  state  proved  adverse  ownership  as  to  only  one  animal, 
a  crumpled  horn  work  steer,  worth  ten  dollars,  and  the  de- 
fendant was  held  to  answer  for  the  theft  of  that  animal — a 
felony  charge.  The  question  was  as  to  the  amount  of  bail. 
I  contended  with  simulated  gravity  that  the  court  should 
fix  the  bond  at  double  the  amount  of  the  value  of  that  steer ; 
read  from  the  Federal  and  State  Constitutions  as  to  "ex- 
cessive bail,"  and  from  the  Statute  laws  on  amounts  of 
bonds  in  attachment  and  sequestration  cases — double  the 
value  in  litigation.  Uncle  Jimmy  declared  that  he  once  had 
an  attachment  case  before  him  and  that  he  would  hear  evi- 
dence as  to  the  value  of  the  steer.  All  hands  adjourned  to 
the  yard,  where  "Aunt  Jane"  had  prepared  a  good  dinner 
of  jerked  beef,  bread  and  buttermilk.  Court  resumed  busi- 
ness and  fixed  the  amount  of  the  bond  at  twenty  dollars. 
The  house  logs  were  delivered,  and  made  me  a  smokehouse. 
The  defendant  was  finally  acquitted. 


SAM  WOODY 
HOWARD  PEAK 


E.  S.  TERRELL 
J.  C.  TERRELL 


RICHARD  KING 
DAN  PARKER 


WHY  SAM  WOODY  LOCKED  HIS  WAGON  WHEELrS 
EVERY  NIGHT. 


During  the  period  of  reconstruction  in  Texas,  returning 
to  Fort  Worth  from,  I  think,  the  last  term  of  the  District 
Court  of  Johnson  County  that  was  held  at  Buchanan,  and  ar- 
riving at  Nolan  River,  I  saw,  newly  camped  there,  Sam 
Woody,  of  Deep  Creek,  Wise  County.  He  had  about  ten 
yokes  of  oxen,  two  or  three  horses,  and  two  large  wagons, 
which  were  loaded  with  goods  en  route  to  Fort  Worth  from 
Calvert,  200  miles  distant,  but  then  our  nearest  railroad 
depot. 

The  weather  was  warm  and  the  moon  being  full,  I  pre- 
ferred traveling  at  night,  but  accepting  Sam's  pressing  in- 
vitation, spent  the  night  with  him;  so,  stripped  my  horse 
and  picketed  him  with  the  others. 

There  was  not  on  all  the  frontier,  a  bigger  soul  or  a  more 
companionable  man  than  Sam  Woody.  One  of  the  first  set- 
tlers of  Wise  County,  he  was  raised  in  the  mountains  of 
Tennessee,  a  neighbor  of  Governor  Bob  Taylor.  He  was 
fond  of  the  good  things  of  this  life,  and  at  home,  as  in  camp, 
lived  like  a  prince;  a  man  of  great  piety,  his  word  was  his 
bond.  Fond  of  joking,  he  never  descended  to  the  vulgar, 
and  never  exaggerated.  Nearly  everybody  knew  him  and 
he  was  universally  beloved. 

I  noticed  that  the  wheels  of  his  wagons  were  locked,  and 
asked  his  negro  man  the  reason.  He  said  he  didn't  know; 
that  Mass'  Sam  made  him  lock  the  wheels  every  night, 
but  'twas  mighty  strange.  Just  before  passing  off  to  sleep 
my  eyes  again  caught  sight  of  the  locked  wheels  and  of 
an  old  horseshoe  nailed  to  the  wagon  box.  This  suggested 
superstition  in  the  owner,  that  some  mysterious  connection 
existed  between  the  horseshoe  and  the  locked  wheel.  What 
was  it?  All  men  are  more  or  less  superstitious,  but  moun- 
taineers, sailors  and  frontiersmen  are  especially  so.  With- 
out doubt  it  is  caused  by  solitude,  and  for  the  same  cause, 
I  take  it,  such  men  as  Napoleon  and  Cromwell,  compelled 


WHY  SAM  WOODEY  LOCKED  HIS  WAGON  WHEELS.      37 

to  mental  isolation,  became  superstitious.  Reflecting  thus, 
while  listening  to  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  oxen,  the  crow- 
ing of  plover  and  the  barking  of  coyotes,  Sam  leisurely 
arose,  stretched  himself  and  refilled  his  pipe.  At  risk  of 
giving  offense  I  asked  why  he  locked  his  wheels.  Edgar 
Poe  asked  questions  of  the  raven  and  answered  them  him- 
self. Perhaps  I  would  have  to  do  the  same  thing.  But  I 
was  consumed  with  curiosity.  With  rather  an  embarrassed 
look,  after  an  uproarious  laugh,  he  said  in  substance : 

''Cap,  just  before  the  war  I  went  down  to  Fort  Worth 
with  a  load  of  wheat  for  Field  &  Man's  gristmill,  above  the 
blue  hole  on  Clear  Fork,  and  loaded  back  with  domestic, 
sugar,  coffee  and  one  thing  and  another.  A  hired  man — a 
tenderfoot — was  with  me.  Seeing  that  he  was  getting  too 
full  I  told  him  to  go  to  camp  across  the  river,  above  the 
junction,  and  to  yoke  the  oxen  to  the  wagon,  and  that  I 
would  be  along  directly.  He  wanted  to  take  the  jug,  but 
I  retained  that  in  my  hand.  In  an  hour  or  so  I  went  over 
to  the  camp.  Well,  sir,  that  fellow  had  hitched  up  the  team, 
loaded  the  mess  tricks,  got  up  in  the  wagon,  went  to  sleep, 
and  away  the  whole  chebang  marched  for  Deep  Creek.  Left 
with  that  jug  of  whisky  I  was  in  a  fix.  It  was  a  full  moon, 
like  this.  I  walked  over  ten  miles  before  I  stopped  them, 
and  every  mile  I  swore  in  good  earnest,  always  hereafter 
to  lock  my  wheels.  When  that  fellow  woke  up  he  said,  'Well, 
youVe  come  at  last?' 

"You  see,  Cap,  not  being  a  Catholic,  there  is  no  way  for 
me  to  be  absolved  from  them  oaths."  I  told  him  that  I 
thought  he  was  wrong.  He  replied  that  Bro.  W.  G.  Veal  also 
told  him  so,  but  that  the  Bible  says,  "Thou  shalt  make  thy 
prayer  unto  him,  and  thou  shalt  pay  thy  vows." 


vy\K 

•S 


THE    FORT    WORTH    UNIVERSITY. 


I  was  on  my  way  to  Virginia,  when  I  met  Rev.  A.  A. 
Johnson,  at  that  time  preaching  the  gospel  and  the  tenets 
of  John  Wesley  Methodism  in  Texas.  He  said  that  he  had 
been  preaching  for  two  years  without  a  convert,  yet  he  de- 
sired to  do  something  for  the  church  by  which  he  could 
pay  back  to  it  the  debt  he  owed  for  his  education  as  a  min- 
ister of  the  gospel.  The  Methodist  Episcopal  church  had 
just  determined  to  establish  the  third  of  its  trinity  of  edu- 
cational institutions  in  the  South,  the  other  two  having  been 
planted  at  Chattanooga  and  Little  Rock.  He  was  earnest 
in  the  belief  that  Fort  Worth  could  secure  the  prize.  Why 
don't  you  incorporate,  I  asked  him,  and  not  long  afterward 
he  came  to  my  office  and  I  drew  up  the  charter. 

A  few  days  later  I  met  William  H.  Cannon,  a  traveling 
salesman,  and  a  devout  member  of  the  Methodist  church, 
and  explained  the  plan  to  him,  telling  him  of  a  piece  of  land 
forty  acres  in  extent,  in  front  of  my  home  property  that 
could  be  bought.  Captain  John  Hanna  was  the  agent  for 
the  land,  and  I  advised  Johnson  to  buy  it. 

The  deal  was  made,  and  Johnson  and  Cannon  sold  enough 
lots  off  that  forty  acres  to  clear  up  about  $4,000  apiece. 
They  reserved  the  balance  for  the  campus,  gave  it  to  the 
University  and  on  it  the  buildings  of  the  institution  have 
been  erected.  The  property  thus  donated  is  worth  now  in 
the  neighborhood  of  $150,000. 

Following  the  incorporation  of  the  company  to  build  the 
University,  the  people  here  raised  $10,000  to  help  the  project 
along.  Captain  Lloyd  gave  $700,  Joe  Brown  $500,  W.  J. 
Boaz  $500,  Peter  Smith  $500  and  others  equal  amounts. 
The  church  put  in  $10,000  and  when  the  building  was  com- 
pleted a  debt  of  $3,000  had  been  incurred.  This  the  educa- 
tional association  of  the  general  church  paid  off,  and  since 
that  time  the  University  has  not  been  encumbered.  I  have 
educated  five  children  at  the  institution.  The  pictures  of 
Johnson  and  Cannon  hang  on  the  walls  of  the  chapel  in 
grateful  remembrance  of  the  services  they  performed  for 
the  University. 


NATHANIEL  TERRY. 

He  came  to  Tarrant  County  in  1854.  He  had  been  the 
Democratic  nominee  for  Governor  in  Alabama,  defeated 
by  Governor  Jones,  his  brother-in-law,  in  a  three-cor- 
nered race.  At  that  time  Lieutenant  Governors  in  Ala- 
bama were  elected  by  the  State  Senate.  He  was  twice  elect- 
ed Lieutenant  Governor.  His  defeat  for  Governor,  by  an 
independent  candidate,  probably  made  him  the  strict  parti- 
san that  he  was.  His  wife,  nee  Jones,  was  a  refined,  edu- 
cated and  lovely  woman.  Two  daughters  and  two  sons, 
with  some  thirty-six  negroes,  constituted  the  family.  These 
slaves  were  given  to  Mrs.  Terry  by  her  brother,  for  the 
Colonel  had  failed  in  business,  and  eighty  of  his  slaves  were 
sold  by  the  Sheriff  under  execution.  The  Colonel  had 
been  one  of  the  highest  flyers  in  the  Union.  Among 
his  assets  was  Uncle  Daniel,  his  body  servant,  keeper  and 
rider  of  Ringgold,  a  famous  horse  costing  him  $3,000.  Dan- 
iel, with  Ringgold,  won  a  great  race  at  Saratoga,  when  it 
was  safe  for  a  Southern  man  to  travel  with  his  slaves 
through  the  North  without  John  Brown's  interference.  This 
horse  was  named  after  Ringgold,  commander  of  the  fa- 
mous battery  which  did  famous  service  in  Mexico.  The 
horse  was  a  deep  sorrel,  with  heavy  mane  and  tail,  and  in 
motion  he  was  a  poem.  Even  at  this  day  I  occasionally 
see  the  favor  of  the  descendants  of  this  grand  horse  in  this 
country. 

Colonel  Terry  settled  the  H.  C.  Holloway  place  north- 
east of  this  city  in  1854.  He  bought  this  land  from  M.  T. 
Johnson.  He  was  a  pronounced  secessionist,  and  in  1862 
sold  his  farm  to  David  Snow,  an  anti-secessionist,  for  $10,- 
000,which  he  took  in  Confederate  money  in  preference  to 
gold  coin  offered  him.  In  1863  the  Confederate  Con- 
gress compelled  the  funding  of  this  money  into  bonds,  and 
I  fell  heir  to  the  same  in  an  iron  safe  which  I  bought  from 
Captain  M.  B.  Loyd — the  bonds  worthless,  of  course. 
David  Snow,  under  a  dirt  floor  in  the  rear  of  No.  109  Weath- 


43  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

erford  street  in  this  city,  buried  $10,000  in  gold  coin,  which 
he  resurrected  in  1866.  He  married  a  Miss  Bradley,  daugh- 
ter of  the  founder  of  Camden,  Ark.,  and  died  there.  He 
was  a  shoemaker  by  trade,  and  made  his  money  by  mer- 
chandising. 

The  Colonel's  house  consisted  of  a  row  of  several  rooms 
snow  white  and  well  furnished,  facing  the  south,  fronted 
with  a  porch  with  floors  of  stone.  There  were  separate 
apartments  for  the  aged  couple.  He  kept  the  most  hospita- 
ble home  I  ever  knew.  When  Governor  Houston,  Jack 
Hamilton,  M.  P.  Wall,  A.  W.  Terrell  and  other  noted  men 
visited  the  village  no'  one  dreamed  that  they  would  go  to 
the  hotel.  Colonel  Terry  entertained  them,  as  of  course,  and 
their  friends  also. 

Utterly  ruined  by  the  result  of  the  war,  this  aged  couple 
died  here  about  the  same  time.  Like  Cicero,  the  Colonel 
loved  and  served  his  country,  and  lost  all  by  espousing  a 
lost  cause. 


OLD  PAUL  TYLER  AND  HIS  DOG  "SOUNDER." 

The  early  settlers  of  Tarrant  County  were  native  Ameri- 
cans, almost  without  exception.  As  a  rule  they  were  pious 
people,  for  I  cannot  recall  an  irreligious  family.  The  few 
merchants  carried  heavy  stocks ;  credit  extended  for  a  year, 
was  almost  universal,  and  was  rarely  abused.  A  whole 
chapter  by  contrast,  is  contained  in  this  declaration. 

The  good  effects  of  the  Act  of  August  26,  1856,  opening 
Peters'  Colony  to  pre-emption  and  settlement,  were  im- 
mediately felt.  The  Neighborhood  of  Clarksville,  Tennes- 
see, furnished  many  emigrants,  among  others,  A.  D.  John- 
son, Paul  Isbell,  James  K.  Allen,  Stephen  Terry,  James 
Grant,  Jack  Collier,  the  Hagoods,  R.  H.  and  William  King, 
the  Pettyes,  John  Weims,  John  Ingraham,  C.  G.  Payne  and 
Paul  H.  Tyler,  with  their  servants  and  household  goods, 
settled  in  and  near  Fort  Worth. 

Paul  Tyler  was  of  Falstaffian  proportions;  weighed  225 
pounds,  a  genial  bachelor,  over  60  years  old.  He  had  been  the 
stay  and  support  of  his  mother  and  sisters  in  Tennessee.  Sur- 
viving them,  he  followed  his  friends  and  neighbors  to  Texas. 
His  was  a  blighted  existence.  He  worshipped  Nature  and 
loved  the  primeval  forest,  and  usually  hunted  alone.  With  his 
gun  and  rod  he  was  a  welcomed  inmate  of  every  family.  His 
appearance  was  ever  welcomed,  especially  by  children, 
whom  he  dearly  loved.  His  departure  caused  protest  and 
insistence  of  early  return.  But  after  all,  Paul's  best  friend 
was  his  faithful  dog,  old  Sounder,  an  immensely  large  Vir- 
ginia dearhound,  a  regular  blackand  tan,  large  muzzle,  a 
little  pepper  and  salt  color  on  the  breast  and  tip  of  his  tail. 
He  had  a  deep  trailing  voice,  like  the  music  of  distant  thun- 
der, oft-repeated.  Few  realize  the  importance  of  a  good 
dog  in  a  new  country.  Suppose  for  a  moment  that  the  spe- 
cies had  not  existed ;  how  could  man,  without  the  assistance 
of  the  dog,  have  been  able  to  conquer,  tame  and  reduce  to 
servitude  every  other  animal.  How  could  he  discover,  chase 
and  destroy  those  that  were  noxious  to  him.  In  order  for 


42  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

him  to  become  master,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  begin 
by  making  friends  of  a  part  of  them,  to  attach  such  of  them 
to  himself  by  kindness  as  seemed  fittest  for  obedience  and 
pursuit.  Thus  the  first  art  employed  by  man  was  in  con- 
ciliating the  favor  of  the  dog,  and  the  fruits  of  this  art 
were  the  conquest  and  peaceful  possession  of  the  earth. 
The  ancients  deified  trie  dog.  God  created  Sounder  a  deer- 
hound  of  the  purest  breed.  Paul  traced  his  pedigree  through 
Cumberland  Gap  to  James  Kennerly's  kennel,  in  Patrick 
County,  Virginia,  near  Mayoforge. 

in  1859,  wnen  .Lawrence  Steel  moved  to  the  White  Settle- 
ment, Paul  and  faithful  Sounder  went,  too.  More  than  hu- 
man love  existed  between  them.  Let  one  of  us  go  to  the 
door,  or  on  the  porch,  and  no  Sounder;  but  let  Paul  go,  and 
lo,  Sounder  was  there.  He  fed  him  on  cold,  unsalted  corn- 
bread,  a  little  peppered.  Paul  never  ate  without  remem- 
bering Sounder.  The  understanding  between  them  was 
wonderful.  Was  a  hog  to  be  caught  Sounder  stood  mute  and 
inattentive  until  Paul  spoke,  and  then  success  immediately 
followed  obedience.  Damon  and  Pythias  could  have  loved 
no  more.  Old  Paul's  human  loves  were  dead.  God  gave 
the  old  man  Sounder  to  compensate. 

One  day  Sounder  was  missed.  They  heard  him  trailing 
on  the  Toombs  and  Catlett  land.  The  next  day  Sounder 
was  heard  on  the  trail,  and  woodmen  reported  him  an  hour 
behind  a  big  buck.  That  night  he  came  home  apparently 
fagged  out,  but  by  sunup  of  the  third  day  he  was  on  the  trail 
and  the  woodcutters  reported  Sounder  in  sight.  By  3  o'clock 
he  bayed  the  buck  in  water  at  the  mouth  of  Silver  Creek, 
where  Paul  killed  it.  Mr.  Steel  again  moved;  this  time  to 
Parker  County.  Paul  and  Sounder  went,  too,  and  died  there 
near  Veals  Station.  Scientists  cannot  tell  us  the  line  be- 
tween instinct  and  intelligence.  Certainly  Sounder  had  a 
spark  of  intelligence  which  is  immortal. 

I  believe  that  Paul  and  Sounder  are  reunited  in  the  hunt- 
er's Elysium,  where  Sounder  leads  the  pack,  and  has  dog 
days  to  spare.  This  twain,  like  Abelard  and  Heloise,  de- 
serve a  monument. 


C.  B.  DAGGETT 
Owned  the  First  Store  in  Tarrant  County. 


MY    FIRST    HUNT   IN   TARRANT    COUNTY. 


When  a  younger  man  I  loved  to  hunt  and  fish.  Diana  and 
Izaak  Walton  were  my  patron  saints.  The  fact  is,  my  love 
for  these  sports  had  much  to  do  with  my  locating  in  Fort 
Worth.  The  neighborhood  of  the  Queen  City  of  the  Prairies 
was  then  the  hunter's  paradise. 

It  was  in  February,  1857.  The  day  was  clear,  cold  and 
crisp.  An  ideal  Texas  midwinter  day.  Our  hunting  ground 
for  the  day  lay  in  the  woods  b3tween  the  "Fort"  and  Bird- 
ville.  Deer  were  numerous;  wild  turkeys  abounded  in  the 
bottom ;  some  herds  of  antelope  yet  survived  on  the  prairies. 
The  West  Fork  was  over  half-bank  full,  with  some  drift 
wood  running;  no  bridge  or  ferry.  So  R.  H.  King  and  my- 
self went  in  a  skiff  down  the  river  from  near  the  site  of  the 
long  bridge  to  the  brickyard  crossing  east  of  town,  so  as 
to  ferry  over  the  hunters  and  recross  from  camp  with  game 
on  home-coming. 

R.  H.  and  William  King,  C.  G.  Payne,  Paul  Tyler  and  K. 
Coleman  were  of  the  party.  R.  H.  King,  now  of  this  city, 
and  then  Master  of  our  Masonic  lodge,  and  myself,  alone 
survive. 

I  had  a  large  shotgun,  which  chambered  four  "blue  whis- 
tlers/' When  a  few  hundred  yards  below  the  town  I  stood 
up  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  to  better  aim  at  some  game,  and 
"all  accoutered  as  I  was,"  fell  overboard,  holding  on  to  my 
gun,  turned  a  summersault  in  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  saved 
the  gun,  and  wrung  out  my  clothes  just  above  the  Cold 
Spring;  crossed  the  boys  over  and  separated  for  the  hunt. 
King  and  myself  killed  a  fine  buck  and  wounded  another, 
near  the  Cross  Spring,  where  Uncle  Alsie  Johnson  planted 
the  mint  for  juleps.  Following  the  hounds,  we  found  the 
wounded  deer  in  the  water  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  bank,  on 
the  south  side  of  the  river,  his  nose  and  antlers  only  showing 
above  the  water.  William  King  and  myself  swam  across 
the  river  to  the  buck,  King  with  knife  in  his  mouth.  To- 
gether we  held  the  deer  while  King  dispatched  it.  It  was  a 


MY  FIRST  HUNT  IN  TARRANT  COUNTY.  45 

large  buck,  and  we  swam  across  the  river  with  him  between 
us,  each  holding  a  prong  of  his  horns.  I  never  had  so  cold 
a  bath. 

In  those  days  whisky  was  a  necessary  part  of  a  camp  out- 
fit. We  had  a  good  article  of  Robinson  County  ''goods." 
The  boys  drenched  us  with  a  double  "Timothy,"  and  I  felt 
none  the  worse  for  my  double  bath.  No  one  doubted  that 
Robinson  County  whisky  was  nectar  for  the  gods.  It  is 
said  the  Primitive  Baptists  used  it  for  sacramental  purposes. 
It  was  delightfully,  deliciously  enjoyable  and  "like  the  dew 
of  Hermon  that  ran  down  on  Aaron's  beard,  even  to  the  hem 
of  his  garments,"  it  went  down  smoothly,  spontaneously 
and  without  combustion,  and  was  immediately  felt  to  the 
end  of  the  toes,  permeating  the  whole  human  frame  divine 
with  a  genial  glow  which  must  be  felt  to  be  even  remotely 
understood.  They  can  make  no  more  like  that.  And  think 
of  it!  Only  thirty  cents  a  gallon,  with  a  red  corncob  attach- 
ment. 

So  long  as  the  firm  of  "Coleman  &  Payne's"  stock  lasted, 
camp  hunts  were  frequent  if  not  profitable.  The  product 
was  untaxed  in  those  days  of  true  Democracy. 

The  decrees  of  the  gods  are  inscrutable.  The  past  is  im- 
mutable! Who  can  tell!  Some  of  us  believe  that  if  the 
State  administration  had  used  Robinson  County  whisky 
alone,  the  convicted  Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company  monopoly 
would  not  be  doing  business  in  Texas. 


A  MOTHER'S  LOVE— SWAPPING  BABIES. 


Standing  on  the  corner  of  First  and  Main  streets,  where 
Capt.  J.  C.  Terrell,  with  the  aid  of  a  whipsaw,  built  his  law 
office,  45  years  ago,  he  remarked:  "It  was  just  35  years 
ago  that  my  oldest  child,  a  girl,  was  born  here.  I  was  glad, 
but  would  have  been  gladder  had  it  been  a  boy. 

"A  few  months  later  I  was  traveling  with  the  young 
child  and  its  mother,  and  spent  a  night  at  a  small  clearing 
in  Hill  County,  where  there  was  a  young  mother  with  a 
beautiful  boy  baby  the  age  of  my  girl.  The  mother  was 
washing  under  a  willow  tree,  near  a  spring.  Her  Cupid 
crowing  on  a  Mexican  blanket  spread  on  the  grass. 

"I  remarked  to  my  wife  in  a  stage  whisper,  "You  know 
I  wanted  a  boy;  let  us  swap  children  with  this  good  woman. 
I  will  pay  its  mother,  and  the  children  will  never  know  the 
difference.  Wife  agreed,  and  went  off  with  our  baby  to'  the 
house. 

"Then  I  turned  to  the  woman,  exposing  a  handful  of  gold, 
and  made  the  proposition  to  swap,  offering  more  money  on 
my  return  to  Fort  Worth.  She  turned  leisurely  around,  de- 
posited the  garment  on  the  wash  tub,  removed  the  snuff 
stick  from  her  mouth,  stood  at  attention,  with  flushed  cheeks, 
gazing  intently  into  my  eyes,  remarked  slowly,  but  with 
dignified  emphasis:  "Stranger,  I  would  see  you  in  hell 
first." 

Negotiations  were  indefinitely  suspended. 


ROBT.  TANAHILL, 
County  Judge 


A  SHORT  SKETCH  OF  THOS.  P.  OCHILTREE. 


The  gallant  Major  Thomas  P.  Ochiltree,  who  recently  died 
in  Virginia,  was  a  son  of  William  B.  Ochiltree,  a  distinguish- 
ed jurist  and  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Republic  of  Texas, 
whither  Tom  came  from  Alabama,  an  infant.  When  quite 
a  lad  he  was  thrown  from  a  horse,  striking  his  head  against 
a  tree,  and  all  of  the  past  became  to  him  a  blank.  He  even 
had  to  relearn  his  A,  B,  C's.  He  had  good  tutors  and  favor- 
able surroundings  and  progressing  rapidly,  became  at  an 
early  age  a  good  Latin,  Spanish  and  French  scholar.  It 
is  believed  that  save  the  fathers  of  the  Republic,  no  Texan 
was  more  widely  known  than  Tom  Ochiltree.  He  was 
truly  sui  generis,  his  life  a  romance.  Comparing  Tom  with 
historic  characters,  whom  he  somewhat  resembled,  the  name 
of  "Beau"  Hickman,  who  flourished  in  Washington  City 
about  the  time  of  the  Mexican  War,  and  of  "Beau"  Brum- 
mell,  of  George  IV  time  naturally  recur;  but  he  was  a  su- 
perior man  to  either  of  them,  living  in  a  more  enlightened 
age,  of  gentle  lineage,  without  the  advantages  possessed 
by  them,  a  poor  man,  product  of  the  Texas  frontier,  he  con- 
sorted, in  peace  and  in  war,  with  the  highest,  as  a  social 
and  intellectual  equal,  at  home  alike  in  palace  and  in  cot- 
tage. 

I  first  met  him  in  Austin,  Texas,  in  the  winter  of  '56-7, 
when  he  was  sergeant-at-arms  to  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives, and  often  reading  clerk.  He  often  called  the  roll  from 
memory.  He  was  an  original  secessionist  and  a  mem  bar 
of  the  Charleston  Convention  that  spoke  the  Civil  War, 
himself,  for  one  so  young  a  leading  actor.  His  disabilities 
of  minority  were  removed  by  special  act  of  the  legislature 
of  '57-8,  so  as  to  enable  him  to  practice  law.  His  father 
was  his  partner;  an  elderly  man,  who  declined  a  place  in 
President  Davis'  cabinet,  thus  making  a  way  for  Judge  John 
H.  Reagan.  Tom  served  as  a  private  soldier  in  Virginia, 
New  Mexico  and  Louisiana  and  was  for  a  long  time  on  Gen- 
eral Dick  Taylor's  staff  with  the  rank  of  major.  He  was 


A  SHORT  SKETCH  OF  THOS.  P.  OCHILTREE.      49 

a  good  Confederate  soldier;  served  as  a  mere  boy  in  the 
Texas  army  against  the  Indians. 

Immediately  after  the  surrender  he  was  imprisoned  on 
Johnson's  Island,  Lake  Erie.  Released,  he  went  to  Europe ; 
returning,  became  junior  editor  of  the  Houston  Telegraph. 
In  '66-7  I  saw  him  in  Austin.  He  asked  me  what  I  intended 
to  do.  I  told  him  I  would  practice  law.  He  answered,  "There 
is  no  law  practice.  I  am  going  North,  where  there  is  some 
life  and  lots  of  money." 

He  aspired  to  be  special  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
Tribune  and  was  strapped,  as  usual,  but  managed  to  get  to 
New  Orleans,  where  he  stopped  at  the  St.  Charles,  of  course. 
There  lived  then  in  New  Orleans  a  man  named  Moody, 
whose  advertisements  were  as  noted  in  Louisiana,  Arkansas 
and  Texas  as  the  Famous  Douglass  shoe  man  is  today.  On 
every  conspicuous  place  there  appeared  his  sign,  "Get  your 

shirts  at  Moody's,"  "No. Canal  street,  New  Orleans." 

And  so,  paying  his  last  dollar  for  a  cab,  Tom  went  to 
Moody's.  Remaining  in  the  cab  he  sent  for  Mr.  Moody,  ex- 
hibited his  commission  as  major  on  General  Taylor's  staff, 
introduced  himself  and  went  with  Mr.  Mody  to  his  private 
office  and  there  demanded  his  shirts.  Mr.  Moody  sent  for 
the  head  clerk,  who  informed  him  that  the  major  had  no 
shirts  there;  whereupon  Tom  said:  "Mr.  Moody,  read  that. 
I  wrote  it  at  my  rooms  at  the  St.  Charles  last  night.  You  will 
observe,  sir,  that  I  get  from  you  two  trunks,  loaded  with 
everything  pertaining  to  a  gentleman's  wardrobe,  from  a 
collar  button  to  a  cloak,  and  $50  in  cash  to  pay  my  way  to 
New  York,  and  this  is  your  advertisement,  worth  thou- 
sands of  dollars." 

Mr.  Moody  carefully  read,  and  after  pondering  profound- 
ly, replied:  "Major,  you  are  right.  Select  your  trunks  and 
clothing,  and  here  is  a  fifty-dollar  check."  Now  we  find 
Tom  in  New  York  at  the  desk  of  Horace  Greeley.  He 
showed  him  his  commission  as  major,  told  him  his  boy  rec- 
ord as  editor,  and  pledged  his  ability  to  forward  the  inter- 
ests of  the  Tribune  at  the  World's  Fair  in  Paris,  and  thanked 
him  for  his  efforts  in  President  Davis'  behalf,  the  brother- 
in-law  of  his  late  chief.  He  further  said  that  if  his  articles 


50  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WO1.TH. 

were  not  received,  to  cast  them  into  the  waste  basket  and 
no  charge  would  be  made.  Mr.  Greeley  wrote  out  and  de- 
livered to  him  the  coveted  appointment,  with  which  he  hied 
him  to  the  White  House  at  Washington  City  and  obtained 
from  General  Grant  the  classmate  of  General  Taylor,  a 
special  pardon — one  of  the  few  granted  by  him,  and  which 
was  afterwards  questioned  by  President  Johnson.  General 
Grant  also  gave  him  a  note  to  the  Secretary  of  State  to  com- 
mend Major  Ochiltree  to  our  ministers  in  Europe  as  a 
worthy,  gallant  and  meritorious  citizen  of  the  United  States 
of  America.  Thus  armed,  he  went  to  Mr.  Greeley's  banker 
in  New  York,  where,  on  his  own  note,  he  borrowed  $500. 
With  all  these  documents  he  went  to  the  passenger  shipping 
offices  and  found  no  difficulty  in  getting  free  passage  to 
Paris.  Some  questions  arose  as  to  incidental  expenses  in- 
curred during  the  passage  over,  which  we  will  not  notice. 
He  was  a  man  of  the  world.  His  brains  and  knowledge 
of  men  his  only  capital  invested.  In  Paris  he  engaged  rooms 
near  the  American  legation  and  advertised  by  a  large  gold 
sign  reading  thus:  "Major  Thomas  P.  Ochiltree,  Special 
Correspondent  of  the  New  York  Tribune."  Then  he  is  said 
to  have  made  and  spent  many  thousands.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that  there  existed  no  better  judge  of  horses  and  dogs  than 
Tom  Ochiltree. 

At  that  time,  here  in  Fort  Worth,  we  had  a  mail  only  once 
a  week.  I  took  the  Tribune  and  eagerly  read  Tom's  contri- 
butions, which  ever  sounded  sporty  and  were  easily  recog- 
nized as  genuine.  He  was  an  American  brick.  After  the 
conclusion  of  the  Paris  fair  he  crossed  the  channel  and  was 
by  our  minister  at  St.  James  presented  to  Prince  Albert, 
now  King  Edward.  It  seems  that  this  Prince  and  Tom  saw 
horses  and  dogs  alike  and  there  is  no  doubt  they  became 
chums,  and  often  sailed  together  on  the  Prince's  private 
yacht,  and  certainly  made  one  voyage  around  the  Isle  of 
Man.  There  was  some  trouble  about  the  Prince's  bets 
at  the  derby  races,  which  is  said  to  have  led  to  an  estrange- 
ment between  them. 

Returning  to  Texas,  in  1882,  was  elected  to  Congress  from 
the  Galveston  District  and  made  himself  notorious  by  in- 


A  SHORT  SKETCH  OP  THOS.  P.  OCHILTREE.      51 

troducing  a  resolution  commending  in  strong  terms  Herr 
Lasker,  a  Socialist,  who  died  in  Galveston  and  who  had 
been  expelled  from  Prussia.  The  resolution,  undebated, 
passed,  of  course,  and  gave  the  world  a  sensation. 

Tom  died  a  bachelor,  a  Confederate,  and  a  Union  patriot. 
He  was  true  to  the  Confederacy  while  it  lasted.  In  the 
new  political  shuffle  and  deal  he  took  a  hand  with  Generals 
Mahone,  Longstreet  and  others,  differing  from  the  mass 
of  his  friends.  For  that  matter,  so  did  St.  Paul — a  personal 
matter,  and  we  should  criticise  neither  without  charity. 
Tom  and  St.  Paul  might  both  be  right. 

About  the  time  Tom  was  in  England  the  boys  told  some 
queer  tales,  showing  his  standing  at  court.  To  illustrate: 
Once  on  a  grand  occasion  at  Windsor  Palace,  the  Queen, 
gorgeously  attired,  was  ascending  the  grand  stair,  when 
Tom  rather  roughly  slapped  her  majesty  on  the  shoulder. 
Turning  with  royal  indignation  and  observing  Tom,  her 
countenance  relaxed  into  a  pleasant  smile  and  she  remarked, 
"0,  it  is  you,  Tom." 

"The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them;  the  good  is  oft 
interred  with  their  bones.  So  let  it  be  with  Caesar." 


QUININE  IN  THE  SIXTIES. 

It  has  often  been  said  that  no  generation  writes  its  own 
history.  Dr.  Palmer  of  New  Orleans  in  his  great  oration 
at  the  late  Confederate  reunion  at  Louisville  repeats  this, 
and  in  confirmation  cites  the  fact  that  no  full  or  satisfactory 
history  of  the  long  war  between  Spain  and  The  Netherlands 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  V,  was  written  until  after  a  lapse 
of  three  hundred  years  and  that  history  was  penned  by  a 
native  of  another  hemisphere. 

Some  day  a  Victor  Hugo,  who  wrote  the  "History  of  a 
Crime,"  or  another  Motley,  in  writing  dispassionately  and 
from  the  records  concerning  our  reconstruction  period,  will 
tell  of  the  facts  of  Congress  of  1862,  1863,  1864  and  1865, 
placing  a  tariff  of  45  cents  on  quinine,  raising  the  tariff 
from  15  cents  under  the  law  of  1857  to  45  cents,  and 
raising  the  tariff  on  Peruvian  bark  from  15  cents  in  1846 
to  20  cents  in  1862  and  1866.  Quinine  was  a  medicine  of 
prime  necessity  in  the  South,  which  used  twenty  times  more 
than  the  North ;  and  because  of  this  tax  and  the  consequent 
monopoly  of  quinine,  it  retailed  in  the  drug  stores  in  the 
South  at  $16  an  ounce — its  weight  in  gold.  The  law  pre- 
vented importation  from  Europe  and  enabled  the  only  man- 
ufacturers of  the  drug  in  the  United  States  to  enjoy  a  mo- 
nopoly. The  Confederate  States  being  blockaded  on  the 
South  and  invested  on  the  North  could  only  look  for  an  un- 
certain supply  dependent  upon  blockade  runners.  This 
law  was  repealed  in  1868,  but  the' high  price  obtained  prac- 
tically during  the  reconstruction,  for  it  was  only  placed  upon 
the  free  list  in  1868,  when  its  price  fell  to  $1.35  an  ounce. 
This  period  from  1866  to  1868  marked  a  time  of  great  pov- 
erty and  suffering  in  the  South.  Negroes,  as  a  class,  and 
poor  white  people  generally,  could  not  buy  this  drug  and 
resorted  to  the  use  of  corn  shucks,  dogwood  and  willow  bark. 
Hence  many  thousands  died  because  of  the  effects  of  this 
tax.  The  South  was  then  unrepresented  in  Congress,  which, 
had  it  been  advised  as  to  the  far-reaching  and  cruel  effects 


.      QUININE  IN  THE  SIXTIES.  53 

of  the  law,  would  doubtless  have  repealed  at  the  close  of  the 
war.  John  Conness  of  California  (an  alien),  Thaddeus 
Stephens  and  other  malignant  enemies  of  the  South  had  it 
all  their  own  way  in  Congress.  For  cold,  cruel,  hatred  and 
revenge  it  far  exceeded  any  law  enacted  by  any  State  since 
the  birth  of  Christ.  Nero's  persecution  was  because  of 
religion;  so  with  Spain  in  expelling  the  Moors  and  Jews; 
and  so  with  the  massacre  of  the  Hugenots  by  Charles  IX  of 
France  in  the  sixteenth  century;  so,  too,  the  slaying  of 
Mexicans  and  Peruvians  by  Cortez  and  Pizarro,  incited  an 
excess  of  miscalled  religious  zeal,  which  is  being  exemplified 
by  Christian  nations  in  China.  But  we  of  America  were  of 
the  same  history,  religion  and  lineage  and  believed  alike 
in  constitutional  government.  Hence  that  cruel  law  was 
without  the  shadow  of  excuse  and  many  well  informed  men 
think  that  its  enactment  caused  more  deaths  than  either 
of  the  persecutions  mentioned.  It  has  been  truthfully  said 
that  civilization  is  but  a  veneer.  Had  conditions  been  re- 
versed, the  South  would  probably  have  enacted  the  same 
laws.  Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  unlocked  for  result,  a  free 
and  united  country. 

This  bitter  subject  recalls  a  pleasant  reminiscence;  mem- 
ory of  things  long  past,  which,  like  distance,  lends  enchant- 
ment. That  indeed  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  one  good, 
and  I  profited  by  that  mean  law.  H.  G.  Hendricks  and 
myself  attended  the  first  session  of  the  District  Court  held 
in  Johnson  County  after  the  war.  Buchanan  was  then  the 
county  seat,  situated  away  from  water,  on  the  high  prairie, 
twenty-six  miles  due'  south  of  Fort  Worth  on  the  old  mili- 
tary road  between  Fort  Worth  and  Fort  Graham  on  the 
Brazos.  There  is  no  town  there  now,  for  Cleburne  has  ab- 
sorbed it.  The  Johnson  County  Court  was  important.  That 
county  then  embraced  Hood,  Somervell  and  a  part  of  Ellis 

Bounties.    The  officers  were Scott,  Judge  (appointee)  ; 

James  Hiner,  Clerk,  and  Joseph  Shaw,  Sheriff. 

A  party  kept  the  saloon,  a  brand  new  one,  built  of  post 
oak  logs,  about  twelve  feet  square  and  covered  with  oak 
boards.  It  had  a  loft,  approached  by  a  ladder.  His  stock 
in  trade  was  one  barrel  of  New  Dexter.  You  could  smell 


54  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  W    RTH. 

the  oak  timbers  on  entering,  which  I  did,  on  business  bent. 
Saturday  came  and  our  court  was  about  to  adjourn.  I  had 
defended  the  party  who  owned  the  saloon  in  several  small 
cases  and  in  one  serious  one.  He  had  paid  the  fees  in  the 
misdemeanor  cases  with  stock  in  trade,  but  concerning  the 
larger  fee,  he  told  me,  in  a  mysterious  way,  that  he  was  out 
of  money,  but  had  a  quantity  of  French  quinine,  which 
he  had  "confiscated"  at  fyler,  where  he  was  guard  in  the 
Confederate  army  at  the  wind-up;  that  owing  to  the  Uncle 
Jimmy  Gathan  and  other  troubles,  he  was  afraid  to  keep 
it,  and  had  it  in  a  trunk  upstairs.  Now,  I  had  refused,  on 
the  advice  of  Jacob  Samuels,  my  merchant,  to  appropriate 
some  thirty  bales  of  Confederate  wool,  which  I  found  stored 
in  one  end  of  my  office  in  Fort  Worth,  and  which  Uncle  Isaac 
Duke  Parker  took  in  the  name  of  the  United  States.  This 
wool  was  worth  50  cents  a  pound,  and  was  actually 
in  my  possession,  and  I  regretted  not  having  confis- 
cated it.  So,  profiting  by  my  experience,  I  told  my 
client  I  would  take  the  drug  and  credit  it  as  far  as  it 
would  go.  Getting  my  saddlebags  and  my  black-dyed  Yan- 
kee overcoat,  up  the  ladder  we  went,  and  from  an  old  hair 
trunk  filled  the  saddlebags  and  overcoat  pockets  with  genu- 
ine French  quinine  in  big-mouthed  ounce  bottles,  tying 
my  clothing  behind  the  saddle  a  la  valise  in  returning  home. 
In  those  days,  Texas  being  a  dryer  country  than  now,  an 
almost  universal  custom  prevailed  of  stopping  to  take  a 
drink  just  before  crossing  running  water.  It  was  considered 
bad  luck  to  do  otherwise;  and  the  custom  was  venerable 
by  age  and  sanctioned  by  public  opinion.  So  Hendricks 
and  myself,  observing  this  custom,  stopped  at  the  bank  of 
Nolan  River,  where  I  surprised  him  with  a  gift  of  part  of 
the  royal  fee. 

Mr.  Samuel  J.  Darcey,  a  wounded  veteran,  then  kept  our 
village  drug  store.  He  disposed  of  my  fee  at  retail  at  $16 
an  ounce,  the  whole  amounting  to  several  hundred  dollars. 
At  the  ensuing  term  of  court,  no  witnesses  appearing  against 
my  client,  he  went  hence  without  day. 


PATRIOTISM  IN  THE  SCHOOLS. 

It  is  just  one  measured  mile  on  Main  street  in  Fort  Worth 
from  the  center  of  the  Union  depot  to  the  center  of  the 
courthouse — two  of  the  finest  buildings  in  the  Southern 
States — inspiring  one  at  a  glance  with  the  volume  of  ideas 
contained  in  those  three  words — wisdom,  strength  and 
beauty.  Both  of  these  no  less  useful  than  magnificent  build- 
ings are  furnished  with  flagstaffs.  How  beautiful  on  clear 
days  to  see  our  flag  flying  from  these  buildings!  The  cost 
would  be  so  light,  the  effect  so  glorious ! 

When  Henry  C.  Holloway  was  County  Commissioner  the 
county  owned  a  splendid  flag.  Commissioner  Barr  tells  me 
that  it  is  worn  out.  Then  buy  another,  or  several  if  advisa- 
ble, and  see  to  it  that  the  Sheriff  does  his  duty  at  the  hal- 
yards. I  know  he  will,  for  the  law  would  compel  him,  if 
so  ordered  by  your  County  Commissioners. 

The  nation  at  large  has  at  last  learned  that  we  old  Con- 
federates long  ago  furled  the  flag  we  loved,  and  that  we 
have  taught  and  teach  our  children  to  venerate  and  love 
the  flag  of  our  fathers.  In  England  the  war  of  the  roses, 
between  the  Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  lasted  for  near- 
ly two  generations.  It  left  England  a  united  people,  as  is 
America  today. 

The  flag  is  the  emblem  of  patriotism,  and  a  nation  with- 
out patriotism  is  liable  to  destruction  at  any  time.  We 
have  several  large  public  school  buildings  besides  the  High 
School  building,  each  with  its  ever-naked,  lonesome,  solemn, 
yet  inviting  flagstaff.  It  is  more  important  that  the  chil- 
dren be  taught  patriotism  at  school  than  any  other  study, 
and  in  this  the  national  flag  is  the  object  lesson.  Make 
manning  the  colors  each  weak  an  honorable  office  to  be  cov- 
eted by  male  students.  Our  law  properly  prohibits  the  teach- 
ing of  religion  in  the  schools.  But  patriotism?  The  schools 
should  be  the  hotbeds  of  patriotic  inspirations,  symbolized 
by  the  flag  of  our  fathers. 


SHALL  THE  WHIPPING  POST  BE  REVIVED? 


Texas,  separated  from  older  nationalities,  evolved  writ- 
ten and  economic  laws  peculiar  to  herself  and  enforced  by 
local  necessities. 

Punishment  in  the  Orient  by  the  bastinado  and  in  Russia 
by  the  knout,  suits  their  conditions,  for  jails,  penitentiaries 
and  reform  schools  do  not  exist  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia, 
or  on  the  steppes  of  Russia. 

So,  too,  in  religious  beliefs  human  races  differ  as  wide]y 
as  people  differ  from  one  another,  because  they  are  mentally 
n^oulded  that  way,  and  logically  evolve  religious  beliefs  ac- 
cordingly. 

English  speaking  people  from  the  time  of  King  John  have 
always  and  everywhere  successfully  contended  for  trials 
by  jury.     Sometimes,  however,  owing  to  lack  of  prisons 
punishment  was  prematurely  inflicted    before    the    court 
passed  final  judgment. 

A  Case  in  Point. 

Some  years  before  the  Civil  War,  when  this  country  was 
almost  a  wilderness,  and  when  there  was  no  town  of  Den- 
ton  in  Texas,  District  Court  was  held  in  a  place  called  Old 
Alton,  in  Denton  County.  John  C.  McCoy,  of  Kentucky, 
was  prosecuting  attorney,  and  Gustavus  Adolphus  Ever- 
etts,  of  Illinois,  was  attorney  for  the  defendant.  Charge, 
theft  of  a  saddle.  The  jury  found  the  defendant  guilty. 
Everetts  immediately  filed  a  motion  for  new  trial,  where- 
upon court  adjourned  for  dinner.  Resuming  labor,  Ever- 
etts presented  his  motion,  backed  by  an  able  argument, 
during  which  now  and  then  the  defendant  interrupted  by 
pulling  at  his  coat  tail  and  finally  said:  "Stop  it;  they'll 
whip  me  again."  During  recess  the  Sheriff  had  anticipated 
final  judgment  by  inflicting  the  punishment. 

How  He  Got  Even. 

When  the  county  site  was  finally  located  at  Denton,  Ever- 
etts got  even  with  Mac,  who  was  prosecuting  a  man  for  as- 


SHALL  THE  WHIPPING  POST  BE  REVIVED?  57 

sault  and  battery,  Everetts  again  defending.  From  the 
jury  box  could  plainly  be  seen  the  large  new  sign  of  "Res- 
taurant," where  the  fight  occurred.  It  was  about  an  even 
ly  balanced  case.  Mac  made  a  strong  speech  and  properly 
pronounced  the  word  "restauraw."  Concluding  for  the 
defence,  Everetts  said:  "My  learned  friend  who  lives  in 
Dallas  close  to  Frenchtown,  and  who  speaks  that  language, 
is  as  much  in  error  as  to  the  law  and  facts  of  this  case  as 
he  is  in  pronouncing  the  word  "restaurant."  Now,  gentle- 
ment  (pointing  to  the  sign),  please  spell  that  word  with  me. 
R-e-s;  don't  that  spell  res?  T-a-u;  don't  that  spell  rester? 
R-a-n-t;  don't  that  spell  restaurant?  And  if  it  don't  spell 
restaurant,  in  the  name  of  goodness  what  do  it  spell?  Of 
course  the  defendant  went  hence  without  day. 

Whipped  and  Cleared. 

Hicks  says  that  his  father  lived  on  the  side  of  a  sandy 
hill  in  North  Carolina.  One  day  a  man  indicted  for  petty 
larceny  was  seen  slowly  wending  his  way  up  hill  with  de- 
jected mien,  and  being  asked  whither  he  was  going,  he 
solemnly  replied:  "To  the  courthouse  to  stand  my  trial." 
In  the  evening  this  man  reappeared  and  when  asked  as  to 
how  his  trial  came  out,  with  body  erect  and  head  thrown 
back,  he  replied.  "They  whipped  me  and  cleared  me ;  I'm 
all  right!" 

Now,  this  was  better  for  the  taxpayers  and  for  the  defend- 
ant and  his  family  than  a  fine  or  an  idle  time  in  jail. 

Shall  we  not  revive  the  whipping  post  in  Texas?  It 
works  well  in  one  or  two  Northern  States. 


JACOB  SAMUEL  AND  LEE  CHALMERS. 

The  appearance  in  our  city  of  the  Hon.  Lee  Chalmers, 
Assistant  Attorney  General  of  the  United  States,  recalls 
an  incident  in  which  Mr.  Chalmers,  Mr.  Jacob  Samuel,  of 
this  city,  and  myself,  figured.  We  were  bachelors  then. 
Chalmers  was  an  Austin  boy,  on  the  staff,  and  the  very 
prince  of  good  fellows.  Until  the  winter  of  1864  Waller's 
Batallion  and  Greene's  Brigade  had  been  on  the  move,  and 
until  we  came  to  anchor  at  Virginia  Point,  near  Galveston, 
we  had  experienced  little  suffering  from  want  of  fire-heat. 
Here  in  midwinter,  on  this  bleak,  barren  sand  beach,  with 
poor  water  and  miserable  rations,  with  but  three  green 
pine  sticks  a  day  to  the  mess,  without  tents,  in  damp,  cold 
weather,  we  had  rather  a  hard  time.  I  obtained  permis- 
sion to  spend  two  days  in  the  city  of  Galveston,  with  one 
man.  I  took  with  me  Mr.  Samuels.  Lee  Chalmers  was  also 
off  duty,  and  we  three  took  in  the  town  together,  Sam  and 
I  on  virtue  bent,  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  Masonic 
lodge.  We  were  accosted  on  the  street  by  a  bevy  of  beauti- 
ful girls,  who  importuned  us  to  buy  tickets  to  a  lottery  draw- 
ing for  the  benefit  of  war  widows  and  orphans.  Now,  I  had 
ever  held  conscientious  scruples  against  engaging  in  raffles 
and  gambling  generally,  even  to  assist  church  festivals,  and 
so  informed  my  companions  and  the  insistent  ladies ;  but  Mr. 
Samuels  said  if  the  dice  were  all  right  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion would  make  the  result,  which  would  be  providential. 
Not  daring  to  fly  in  the  face  of  Providence,  as  it  were,  I 
reluctantly  and  with  many  misgivings  consented  and  bought 
several  tickets.  Several  of  the  prizes  were  valuable,  and 
that  night  as  the  numbers  of  the  tickets  were  called,  the 
owners  of  the  numbers  advanced  and  threw  for  themselves. 
I  got  the  presiding  houri — the  prettiest  girl  on  any  island — 
to  throw  for  me,  and  won  a  gold  chain  and  locket  and  two 
gold  bracelets ;  gave  her  the  locket  and  chain,  she  gracefully 
bending  her  neck  while  I  encircled  it  with  the  chain  in  my 
arms  amid  the  plaudits  of  all.  The  bracelets  I  carelessly 


JACOB  SAMUEL  AND  LEE  CHALMERS.        59 

put  in  the  hind  pocket  of  my  coat.  Of  course  we  became 
popular.  Now  in  elections  I  abhor  repeating,  and  no  good 
Democrat  will  nor  indeed  can  he  now  repeat ;  but  there  are 
times — well,  that  night  Mr.  Samuels  slept  soundly  on  the  top 
of  a  cistern  in  the  back  yard,  "While  not  a  wave  of  trouble 
rolled  across  his  peaceful  breast."  My  Colonel,  Ed  Waller, 
and  myself,  were  alike  surprised  next  morning  to  find  our- 
selves in  the  same  bed.  Sam  and  myself  drew  ourselves  to- 
gether early  in  the  morning,  and  on  taking  a  careful  inven- 
tory found  ourselves  strapped  and  "enhungered."  Finally 
Sam  found  the  bracelets  in  my  pocket,  badly  mashed,  and 
with  them  rapidly  disappeared  'round  the  corner  to  an 
"uncle."  Tres  bolas  de  ora.  And  in  a  few  minutes  he  returned 
with  a  hatful  of  Coonfederate  money,  with  the  aid  of  which 
we  three  spent  two  days  "in  riots  most  uncouth,  and  vexed 
with  mirth  the  drowsy  ear  of  night."  It  was  an  oasis  in 
the  desert  of  our  existence,  soon  followed  by  the  march; 
then  Mansfield,  Pleasant  Hill  and  Brashear  City,  where 
General  Banks  so  liberally  replenished  our  quartermaster 
and  commissary  stores. 


CONFEDERATE  REUNION  IN  MEMPHIS. 

The  late  reunion  at  Memphis  was  a  success  in  every  way. 
Mr.  Andrew  J.  Harris,  a  kinsman  of  our  historian,  Judge 
C.  C.  Cummings,  and  whose  palatial  residence  is  three 
miles  from  the  heart  of  the  city,  entertained  General  Van 
Zandt's  staff  with  royal  hospitality.  Miss  Maggie  Cum- 
mings and  Miss  Lively,  her  maid  of  honor,  of  Bowie,  Texas, 
were  of  the  party.  What  with  the  hearty  welcome,  good 
cheer  and  music,  we  had  a  grand  old  time.  The  ancestral 
Cummings  home,  extensive  lawn,  large  magnolia  trees  in 
full  bloom,  beautiful  rose  gardens,  and  esthetic  taste  every- 
where, unostentatiously  displayed,  suggested  the  Old  South. 

I  gladly  accepted  Mr.  Harris'  hospitality  for  the  night. 
A  member  of  the  staff,  our  General  Joe  Wheeler  (Colonel 
George  Jackson),  shared  his  bed  with  me.  We  were  travel - 
worn,  and  after  a  large  night-cap,  slept  soundly.  "Not  a 
wave  of  trouble  rolled  across  our  peaceful  breast."  It  was 
rainy  and  chilly  without,  but  an  old-fashioned  coal  fire, 
music  and  mirth,  made  all  bright  and  genial  within. 

After  awhile  the  young  people  suggested  tales  of  war 
time,  and  when  the  ante  was  passed  to  me  I  told  the  follow- 
ing reminiscence: 

At  the  commencement  of  the  Civil  War  the  Confederate 
government  confiscated  the  Northern  enemy's  property  for 
the  use  of  the  Confederacy ;  for  instance,  the  firm  of  Turner 
&  Daggett,  in  Fort  Worth,  were  indebted  in  New  York  for 
$30,000  for  goods.  The  firm  paid  that  sum  to  the  Confed- 
eracy, and  after  the  war  paid  off  their  New  York  creditors 
also.  United  States  District  Judge  Duval,  being  a  Union 
man,  was,  by  order  of  President  Davis,  superseded  by  Thom- 
as J.  Devine  of  San  Antonio.  Judge  Devine  appointed  me 
Confederate  receiver  of  public  money  and  properties  for  my 
portion  of  the  state.  Experience  having  taught  me  that  it 
was  more  blessed  to  receive  than  to  give,  I  gladly  accepted 
the  position,  and  obeying  instructions,  reported  in  person 
with  bond,  etc.,  to  the  court  at  San  Antonio. 


CONFEDERATE  REUNION  IN  MEMPHIS.  61 

The  State  Constitutional  Convention  had  submitted  to  the 
people  the  question :  Shall  Texas  secede  from  the  Federal 
compact?  At  this  time  it  was  not  a  question  of  peace  or 
war,  for  some  Southern  States  had  seceded  and  war  was  in- 
evitable. Governor  (then  Doctor)  Throckmorton,  Gover- 
nor Sam  Houston,  and  M.  P.  Johnson,  C.  Caldwell,  John 
Peter  Smith,  D.  C.  Bade  and  myself,  among  others  of  Tar- 
rant  County,  favored  separate  action  for  Texas  and  opposed 
the  raising  of  a  new  flag.  We  were  pretty  evenly  divided ; 
Tarrant  County  voted  for  secession  by  a  majority  of  only 
28  out  of  over  700  votes  cast. 

Returning  from  San  Antonio,  I  visited  old  friends  on  the 
Mountain  in  Hill  County,  Louis  Hutchison  and  his  wife 
(nee  Miss  Laura  Lawton)  ;  they  were  highly  educated  and 
wealthy,  and  had  no  children,  had  been  to  Cuba  and  else- 
where in  search  of  health;  lived — or  rather,  camped — in  a 
one-room  little  log  cabin  in  a  beautiful  grove  near  a  fine 
spring  and  in  the  midst  of  an  apparently  boundless  prairie, 
miles  distant  from  the  nearest  neighbor  and  .just  dimly  in 
sight  of  the  Cross  Timbers  to  the  west.  Louis  and  Miss 
Laura  had  found  here  in  this  quasi-wilderness  what  they  had 
sought  in  vain,  robust  health.  They  were  in  love  with  each 
other  and  with  their  surroundings.  They  had  a  wagon, 
horses,  a  few  cows  and  calves,  and  a  glorious  little  garden. 
They  told  me  they  had  no  wish  unsatisfied;  were  all  in  all 
to  each  other.  I  never  met  so  happy  a  young  couple.  They 
were  devoted  members  of  the  Baptist  church.  Louis  had, 
like  myself,  been  educated  at  the  Kemper  school,  in  Boon- 
ville,  Mo.  He  was  a  stranger  to  Lord  Bacon's  philosophy, 
had  never  read  Huxley,  Darwin  or  Proctor,  and  only  heard 
adversely  of  Tom  Payne  and  Voltaire,  and  of  the  doubts  of 
the  Adamses,  Thomas  Jefferson  and  Benjamin  Franklin 
on  the  Scriptures.  He  possessed  the  unbounded  faith  of  a 
little  child  approaching  the  mustard-seed  variety;  he  gave 
undoubted  credence  to  the  whale,  bear,  serpent  tale,  and 
all.  Alas,  the  direful  rumors  of  approaching  Civil  War 
had  reached  this  isolated,  happy  couple,  and  clouded  their 
lives.  Conservative  people  were  slow  to  express  themselves 
politically,  and  I  was  at  a  loss  to  know  where  to  place  Louis 


62  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

until  bedtime,  when,  after  reading  a  chapter  in  the  Bible, 
where  Joshua  commanded  the  sun  to  stand  still  and  Moses 
had  his  hands  held  up,  he  reverently  knelt  at  the  old  trunk 
and  there,  oblivious  of  surroundings,  unburdened  his  pure 
heart  and  told  his  soul's  sincere  desire,  which  he  had  in 
a  measure  withheld  from  me.  He  said:  "If  the  North  is 
right  in  interfering  with  our  domestic  institutions,  in  hav- 
ing kidnaped  an- 1  sold  us  cannibal  niggers  to  educate  and 
Christianize  and  then  seeking  to  free  without  paying  for 
them,  contrary  to  the  Federal  Constitution  and  against  the 
solemn  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court,  then  0  Lord,  help 
thou  the  North ;  but,  but,  and  if,  0  thou  God  of  heaven  and 
earth,  the  South  is  right  (and  we  believe  in  our  hearts  that 
she  is)  in  defending  her  property  peacefully  and  legally  ac- 
quired and  held,  then,  0  Lord,  smite  thou  the  Northern 
robbers  hip  and  thigh  from  the  rising  to  the  going  down  of 
the  sun  even  to  the  dividing  apart  of  bone  and  marrow." 
I  no  longer  doubted  Louis's  soundness. 

They  on  account  of  the  war  returned  to  Missouri,  and 
there  in  that  rough  climate,  succumbed  to  the  terrible 
disease,  as  much  victims  of  the  war  as  was  Uriah,  the  vic- 
tim of  David  the  Anointed,  the  history  of  whose  vile  life, 
by  the  way,  should  be  eliminated  from  our  Sunday  school 
and  only  found  on  the  theological  shelf  of  Carnegie's  library. 


BROTHER  DEHART'S    POWERFUL    PRAYER. 


As  a  general  rule  it  is  sinful  to  laugh  at  Divine  services, 
but  there  are  exceptions  to  all  rules.  Burns  tells  us  that 
"an  atheist's  laugh  is  a  poor  exchange  for  Deity  offended." 
Amusing  incidents  sometimes  occur  in  moments  and  sur- 
roundings of  great  seriousness,  and  well  balanced  men  and 
women  have  been  seen  to  laugh  and  weep  at  the  same  time. 
Shakespeare  mixes  the  farce  in  all  his  tragedies ;  and  even 
Solomon,  divinely  accredited  with  700  wives  and  300  concu- 
bines, descends  to  the  ridiculously  humorous.  Of  all  animal 
creation  man  alone  laughs.  We  are  told  that  there  is  a  time 
to  laugh,  but  sometimes  we  are  tempted  to  laugh  when  we 
should  weep.  The  intent  constitutes  the  sin.  With  good 
intentions,  but  at  fearful  risk  of  offending  the  "cloth,"  I 
would  recall  an  amusing  incident. 

Our  section,  defeated  in  the  unequal  encounter  of  arms, 
exploited  by  carpetbag  government,  something  like  our  "col- 
onies" now  feel,  our  school  funds  robbed,  with  practical 
negro  political  domination,  a  stoical  feeling  of  deepest  gloom 
overspread  the  land,  and  culminated  in  religious  meetings 
largely  attended  even  in  sparsely  settled  sections. 

In  1866  I  attended  the  first  Court  of  Reconstruction  period 
held  in  Wise  County,  then  a  part  of  the  Sixteenth  Judicial 
District.  Judge  Waddell  of  Grayson  presided,  Em  Hawkins 
of  Ellis,  District  Attorney.  Dr.  J.  W.  Throckmorton  (after- 
wards Governor)  of  Collin  County,  Joe  Carroll  (afterwards 
Judge)  of  Denton  County,  and  G.  A.  Everetts,  H.  G.  Hen- 
dricks  of  Tarrant  County,  were  among  the  "visiting  bar." 
We  arrived  in  Decatur  the  Saturday  evening  before  court. 
Brother  Shaw,  a  man  of  deep  piety,  of  ripe  age,  and  presid- 
ing elder  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  was 
holding  a  prosperous  camp  meeting  some  four  miles  from 
town,  and  on  Sunday  night  we  all  attended  divine  service 
there  on  pleasure  and  business  bent,  for  a  while  some  of  us 
were  piously  inclined,  all  were  impecunious,  and  the  litigants 
were  at  the  meeting.  The  moon  was  full,  the  weather  fine. 

There  was  present  old  Brother  Dehart,  a  wealthy  cattle 
owner,  who  was  possessed  of  an  article  of  spasmodic  and  in- 


64  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

termittent  religion  then  prevailing;  for  awhile  he  rejoined 
the  church  and  prayed  in  public  in  summer;  he  fell  off  and 
got  cold  in  winter.  He  was  small  of  stature  and  was  the  only 
cattleman  in  Texas  who  wore  a  plug  hat.  He  possessed 
an  unusually  loud,  deep,  musical  voice,  in  volume  equal  to 
that  of  Mohamet's  crier.  He  was  not  for  prophecy  or  exhor- 
tation. He  was  powerful  in  prayer.  Indeed,  it  was  his  relig- 
ious specialty — public  prayer.  Dehart  was  noted  for  using 
melliflous  and  sometimes  unmeaning  words ;  so  that  they  had 
the  bigness  and  sound  it  was  all  right  with  him.  For  in- 
stance, petroleum  was  advertised  in  the  paper,  but  unknown 
to  many.  It  had  been  developing  during  the  war.  We  had 
just  learned  of  its  great  value,  and  of  the  millions  made  by 
its  owners.  During  the  height  of  the  excitement  caused  by  the 
elder's  eloquent  description  of  what  G.  W.  Paschal  in  the 
introduction  to  his  annotated  digest  called  "an  old-fashioned 
Methodist  hell,"  Brother  Dehart  was  called  upon  to  pray. 
On  the  way  to  town  we  tried  to  remember  that  prayer.  I 
remember  the  beginning  and  conclusion  only.  It  ran  some- 
thing like  this: 

"0,  thou  all-sufficient,  inefficient,  self-sufficient  being,  0, 
thou  almighty,  all-powerful,  omnipotent,  omniscient,  omni- 
present, eternal,  petroleum,  insignificant,  Lord  Jesus  H. 
Christ — eh — Jehovah  God — eh — "  and  the  conclusion,  after 
a  long  breath — "And  0,  Lord — eh — when  thou  art  tired  and 
done  serving  thyself  with  us  on  earth — eh — wilt  thou  take 
us  into  that  upper  and  better  kingdom,  prepared — eh — 
from  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  for  the  devil  and  his  an- 
gels!" 

Several  cried,  "God  grant  it!"  but  Brother  Shaw  exclaim- 
ed, "God  Almighty,  forbid !" 

An  alarm  of  Indians  being  in  the  country  broke  up  the 
meeting  the  very  next  day.  All  above  named  have  passed 
in  their  checks,  and  like  Elijah,  "I,  even  I  only,  am  left." 
My  attorney,  and  some  time  mentor,  tells  me  that  our  of- 
fense of  laughing  then  was  only  a  venal  sin,  a  sort  of  mis- 
demeanor, and  that  he  can  beat  it  for  me  by  pleading  the 
statute  of  limitations,  and  Hyde  knows. 


'UNCLE"  JACK  DURRETT, 
The  Fiddler. 


THE  CHARMS    OF    MUSIC. 


Fiddlers'  Contest  Evokes  Memories  of  an  Old  Time  Fiddler 

of  Fort  Worth. 

The  idea  of  having  in  Fort  Worth  a  fiddlers'  prize  con- 
test for  the  benefit  of  R.  E.  Lee  Camp  of  Confederate 
Veterans  is  good  and  deserves  success.  All  people  have 
music  in  their  souls,  cultivated  or  dormant.  The  love  of 
concord  of  sweet  sounds  is  planted  in  the  natures  of  lower 
animals  as  well.  Music,  with  all  people,  is  connected  with 
ideas  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  From  the  Indian's 
death  song  to  the  gorgeous  notes  of  St.  Peter's,  music  has 
ever  been  the  assistant  of  religion.  The  Chinaman,  en- 
chanted with  his  weird  music,  is  oblivious  to  the  charms 
of  Norma  and  Somnambula.  His  music  and  his  religion  suit 
him,  and  he  should  be  left  unmolested  in  their  enjoyment. 
Music  is  enjoyed  very  largely  by  association,  and  very 
many,  like  myself,  enjoy  "Dixie,"  "Arkansaw  Traveler," 
"Coming  Thro'  the  Rye,"  "Annie  Laurie,"  "Home,  Sweet 
Home,"  "My  Country,  'Tis  of  Thee,"  and  pieces  like  those, 
more  than  we  do  the  average  music  of  Mendelssohn  or  Mo- 
zart. The  gift  of  genius  that  can  compose  a  hymn  and 
music  like  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my  Soul,"  is  more  to  be  desired 
than  the  wealth  of  a  Rockefeller. 

The  powerful  effect  of  music  on  the  emotional  nature 
of  man  is  shown  in  the  following  reminiscence : 

In  1858,  Uncle  Jack  Durrett  came  from  Tennessee  to 
Fort  Worth,  an  aged  man,  of  courtly  bearing,  who  had  in- 
herited and  spent  two  fortunes.  Like  Old  King  Cole,  he 
was  a  jolly  old  soul,  and  a  good  fiddler.  Then  the  eight- 
hour  labor  demand  was  unheard  of,  except  by  Mason's. 
Business  as  such  was  only  known  in  the  cattle  branding 
and  round-up  time.  One  evening  in  May,  when  the  boys 
were  congregated,  as  usual,  on  the  west  side  of  the  square, 
killing  time  and  listening  to  Uncle  Jack's  music,  all  eyes 
were  turned  to  behold  a  fine,  middle-aged  man,  dressed  in 
steel-mixed  homespun  and  riding  a  thoroughbred.  Dismount- 


THE  CHARMS  OF  MUSIC.  67 

ing  he  loosened  his  girth  and  hitched  to  the  rack.  He  was 
evidently  a  well-to-do  stranger,  probably  a  land  buyer, 
Now  Uncle  Jack  was  in  his  happiest  mood,  keeping  time 
with  his  foot,  with  his  head  thrown  back,  and  oblivious  to 
surroundings.  Hearing  the  music,  the  stranger  silently 
advanced  and  stood  close  to  the  performer,  and  when  the 
tune  was  finished,  with  tears  coursing  down  his  face,  and  as 
if  speaking  to  himself,  he  exclaimed,  "Dilcy  Hawkins !  Jest 
to  think  of  hearing  Dilcy  Hawkins  played  away  from  Ten- 
nessee, out  here  in  Texas.  Please  play  'Dilcy'  again,  old 
gentleman!"  Uncle  Jack  readily  encored,  the  stranger  di- 
recting to  the  crowd  a  dignified  and  kindly  look,  and  slight- 
ly extending  his  hand  towards  the  proprietor,  remarked,  as 
near  as  can  be  remembered :  "Gentlemen,  will  you  jine  me?" 
Ever  thereafter  he  bore  the  title  of  Colonel. 

Uncle  Jack  accompanied  the  Colonel  to  Larrie  Steele's 
tavern,  telling  him  on  the  way  about  the  county  site  con- 
test between  Fort  Worth  and  Birdville  (which  cost  the  lives 
of  several  good  men) .  Coley  Johnson,  Hen  Durret  and  Kid 
Nance,  kids  with  instinctive  love  for  a  fine  horse,  led  the 
charger  to  Netherley's  stable. 

If  the  contestants  do  not  equal  Orpheus  or  even  Uncle 
Jack,  they  will  entertain  by    recalling    halcyon    days    of 
'Auld  Lang  Sine,'  when  life  was  full  of  sunny  dreams. 
******* 

Uncle  Jack,  the  embodiment  of  dignified  politeness 
and  geniality,  was  a  born  talker,  and  talked  well,  too.  He 
had  a  stereotyped  memory  and  was  long  on  details.  Once 
started,  interruptions  might  give  him  pause,  but  recovering 
the  thread,  he  pushed  right  on  to  the  goal,  however  distant. 
He  loved  to  talk  and  to  fish.  He  had  been  known  to  fish 
for  two  days  in  one  spot  without  getting  a  bite. 

After  mounting  his  horse  next  morning,  the  stranger 
asked  Uncle  Jack  to  tell  him  the  road  to  Weatherford.  With 
a  bow-and-expectorating  preface,  he  told  him  that  Weath- 
erford was  the  county  seat  of  Parker  County,  which  was 
just  thirty  miles  square  and  twenty-eight  miles  due  west 
of  Fort  Worth;  to  leave  R.  H.  and  William  King's  black- 
smith shop  to  the  left,  and  also  Fields'  mill,  where  Judge 


63  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

Seaborn  Gilmore  licked  the  miller  who  was  charged  with 
over-tolling;  then  to  cross  Clear  Fork  below  the  Blue  Hole, 
where  Parson  A.  N.  Dean  baptized  C.  A.  Harper,  and  where 
Larry  Steele's  steers  and  negro  were  drowned;  rising  the 
bank  on  the  other  side  he'd  see  a  log  cabin  with  a  wagon  road- 
on  both  sides,  where  'Squire  Stephen  Terry  married  a  couple, 
who,  ignoring  their  tents,  and  against  advice,  lodged  over 
night  in  that  empty,  unchinked  cabin,  which  leaked  like  a 
sieve — it  thundered  and  rained  all  night,  I  don't  think  they 
slept  much  that  night ;  do  you  ?'  The  stranger  gave  a  smil- 
ing assent — the  horse  became  more  restless — proceeding 
Uncle  Jack  told  him  to  take  either  road,  for  they  came  to- 
gether in  300  yards;  proceeding  due  west  he  would  leave 
the  first  house  to  his  left;  that  Uncle  John  Kinder  lived 
there,  concededly  the  best  off-hand  rifle  shot  in  Texas, 
though  Judge  Gilmore,  C.  G.  Payne  and  Paul  Tyler  were 
good  seconds — the  horse  and  rider  became  more  restless — 
seeing  this  Uncle  John  said,  The  fact  is,  stranger,  there  is 
but  one  plainly  traveled  road  from  here  west,  and  it  leads 
directly  to  Weatherford.  Follow  that  road  and  leave 
Prince's  mill  and  Dr.  Blackwood's  tavern  to  the  left  and 
you  will  land  at  Carson  &  Lewis's  brick  hotel.' 

Raising  his  voice,  as  the  stranger  rode  off,  he  said,  'Dr. 
Blackwell  being  from  the  State  of  Kentucky,  you  better 
stop  with  him.' 

Capt.  M.  B.  Loyd  says  that  the  stranger  stopped  with 
Mrs.  Curtis,  who  afterwards  married  Mr.  Cullom  and  then 
Mr.  Sykes. 

Uncle  Jack  straightened  up,  about  faced  and  struck  a 
bee  line  for  Tom  Prindle's  saloon  on  the  west  side  of  the 
square. 


PECAN  TIME  IN  BIRDVILLE. 


Our  constitution  wisely  provides  that  in  all  criminal 
prosecutions  the  accused  shall  be  confronted  with  the  wit- 
nesses against  him. 

In  the  days  of  reconstruction  Birdville  used  the  pub- 
lic school  house  for  religious  worship.  Lon  Barkley,  a  lad  of 
about  sixteen,  with  new  red-top  boots,  pants  inside,  inclined 
to  a  different  faith  to  Parson  W.,  a  very  nervous  spare  made 
man,  a  local  preacher. 

The  latter  took  Phillip  and  the  eunuch  for  his  text.  It 
was  pecan  time,  a  heavy  crop,  and  the  floor  was  covered 
with  hulls.  Every  time  Mr.  W.  made  a  'p'int,'  down  would 
come  Lon's  boot  heels  on  the  hulls,  till  W.  Prematurely  ad- 
journed his  meeting.  Lon  was  indicted,  charged  with  dis- 
turbing religious  worship,  and  Rev.  W.  was  State's  witness. 
"In  the  cross-examination  I  asked  him  to  state  to  the 
court  and  jury  his  feelings  toward  the  defendant.  He  said, 
with  a  pious  sigh  of  resignation,  looking  toward  the  ceiling, 
"As  for  the  lad,  in  the  Spirit  I  do  dearly  love  him,  but"  (look- 
ing sternly  at  the  defendant,  with  uplifted  arm  and  cleanched 
fist,  and  with  a  loud  voice)  "as  for  the  lad  in  the  flesh,  I 
do  hate,  abominate  and  abhor  him,  so  help  me  God/ 

"Defendant  was  acquitted  on  the  ground  that  Parson 
W.  could  not  hold  a  religious  meeting  under  the  statutes. 
"Lon yet  says  the  other  boys  did  it." 


UNCLE   JOHN    KINDER,   THE    FAMOUS    SHOT   AND 
HUMANITARIAN. 

It  was  in  Fort  Worth,  the  first  day  of  the  fall  term  of 
the  District  Court,  in  1858.  The  grand  jury  had  been  em- 
paneled and  charged  and  the  docket  sounded.  The  term 
was  limited  to  one  week,  which  required  day  and  night 
work,  especially  on  the  part  of  the  clerk.  A  shooting  match 
was  on  the  tapis  and  many  rifles  were  in  sight.  All  hands, 
including  the  court  and  jurors,  adjourned  to  the  bottom 
at  the  junction  of  the  Trinity  Rivers  where  the  power  house 
stands,  and  where  Uncle  Charley  Daggett  had  a  ferry.  Here 
an  unbranded  7-year-old  break-fence  steer  stood  lariated 
to  a  young  pecan  tree.  He  was  a  beauty.  Red-and-white 
pied,  fat  as  mud,  with  horns  stained  red  with  poke-berries 
and,  surrounded  by  the  admiring  crowd,  who  variously  com- 
mented on  the  marksmanship  of  the  contestants.  The  rule 
was  fifty  yards  off-hand  and  seventy-five  yards  with  a  rest, 
at  the  option  of  the  marksman. 

Uncle  John  Kinder,  who  lived  at  the  site  of  Arlington 
Heights,  being  the  oldest  man — in  his  sixties — was  given 
the  first  shot.  He  was  a  pioneer  from  Illinois,  over  six 
feet  tall,  a  kindly  man,  with  cold,  steel-gray  eyes,  and  a 
Universalist  in  belief.  He  loved  his  rifle.  She  was  long 
and  heavy,  maple-stocked  and  silver-mounted — carried  thir- 
ty-two to  the  pound.  Her  hair-triggers  (which  Randolph 
abominated)  were  as  sensitive  as  the  mimosa.  When  Uncle 
John  toed  the  mark  all  were  silent  and  intense.  Closely 
shaved,  with  head  thrown  back,  he  stood  as  straight  as 
a  pine,  resting  his  body  on  his  right  leg,  the  left  well  ex- 
tended; for  only  a  moment  he  sighted.  Firing,  a  shout 
went  up  from  non-contestants.  The  center  had  been  driven 
in.  Uncle  John  had  won.  The  hide  and  tallow  also  were 
his. 

That  he  was  a  remarkable  shot  there  is  no  doubt.  An 
old  settler  tells  this:  "Long  prior  to  1857,  when  I  came 
to  Fort  Worth,  on  a  calm,  clear,  lazy  spring  day,  when  'there 


UNCLE  JOHN  KINDER.  71 

was  not  a  breeze  on  high  the  gossamer  to  bear/  several  men 
and  post  officers  were  at  the  sutler's  store.  Uncle  John  was 
there  with  rifle  in  hand,  as  usual.  A  young  officer  guyed 
him  about  his  marksmanship,  and,  pointing  to  a  large  buz- 
zard, low-circling  above,  asked  him  to  bring  it  down.  He 
said :  'The  buzzard  is  a  useful  bird,  and  to  kill  it  would  be 
against  the  law;  but  I  will  slightly  wing  him/  Firing,  a 
small  feather  was  slowly  wafted  to  their  feet,  at  which  the 
bird,  seeming  unconcerned,  wobbled  a  little.  Slowly  reload- 
ing, he  remarked:  'Boys,  I  hate  cruelty.  Next  time  he 
circles  I  will  trim  him  even,'  and  firing,  behold!  another 
feather  from  his  left  wing,  with  the  bird  flying  off  evenly. 
The  feathers  were  of  the  same  length." 

Now,  in  those  days  when  local  option  was  undiscovered, 
and  all  whisky  was  good,  it  was  in  demand  at  house-rais- 
ings and  general  elections;  but  shooting  matches,  where 
keen  eyes  and  steady  nerves  won,  were  the  exceptions.  So 
the  crowd  adjourned  to  the  public  square  and  Uncle  John 
was  the  hero  of  the  hour.  Here  he  bet  A.  Y.  Fowler,  a 
young  attorney,  that  he  would  shoot  through,  or  merely  hit 
a  box  without  the  bullet  going  through.  Retiring  to  the 
back  room  of  Oldham's  store,  he  unscrewed  the  small  end 
of  his  ramrod,  and  with  tow  taken  from  his  fawn-skin 
hunting  pouch,  wiped  out  the  gun,  and  with  a  buck-horn 
charger  loaded  with  powder,  slapped  the  lock,  rolled  a 
round  unpatched  bullet  down  the  barrel  and  inserted  a 
loose  paper  wad  within  one  inch  of  the  muzzle,  primed, 
half-cocked  and  rejoined  the  crowd.  With  rifle  to  his  face 
he  asked  Fowler  to  bet,  which  he  did,  and  on  the  bullet 
going  through.  Whereupon  Uncle  John  elevated  the  breech 
of  his  gun,  causing  the  ball  to  roll  down  to  the  paper,  and, 
firing,  made  a  small  dent  on  the  box.  The  two  gallons  went 
the  round,  including  the  bench  and  the  visiting  bar,  more 
than  once.  The  court  had  a  good  send-off.  He  was  a 
hospitable,  sympathetic,  sociable  and  neighborly  man. 


"The  Simple  Annals  of  the  Poor." 

A  few  miles  west  of  Fort  Worth,  in  a  little  valley  between 
Arlington   Heights   and   Mrs.   Henry   Thompson's,   during 


72  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

the  Civil  War,  lived  a  poor,  aged,  one-eyed  man,  a  plasterer 
from  Missouri,  named  Malloy.  He  was  a  preemptor  under 
the  law  of  '56. 

His  household  consisted  of  himself  and  two  children,  aged 
5  and  7  years.  Uncle  John  Kinder  and  Malloy  were  ene- 
mies, and,  although  neighbors,  they  had  not  spoken  for 
months.  Then  wolves  were  numerous.  One  night  Malloy 
fell  sick  and  told  the  children  that  in  the  morning  he  would 
be  dead,  and  that  they  must  on  account  of  the  wolves  stay 
in  the  cabin  until  sun-up,  and  then  go  and  tell  Uncle  John 
to  bury  papa.  Uncle  John  complied  with  the  request  and 
cared  for  the  little  ones. 


LEWIS  H.  BROWN  FAMILY. 


Looking  over  the  "Puritan"  for  August  I  was  struck 
with  the  familiarity  of  the  face  and  figure  of  Countess  Adam 
Von  Moltke-Huitfeldt  (formerly  Miss  Bonaparte,  of  Wash- 
ington.) 

There  was  a  something  in  the  likeness  which  at  once  sug- 
gested that  I  had  seen  or  that  I  was  acquainted  with  the 
original. 

In  1857,  Lewis  H.  Brown  came  to  Fort  Worth  from  Mary- 
land, near  the  city  of  Baltimore.  His  wife  and  five  child- 
ren came  with  him.  Misses  Lou  and  Ruth,  pretty  and  ac- 
complished young  women,  and  Horatio,  George  and  Harry, 
boys  of  honor  and  integrity.  I  think  they  are  all  dead  now. 

Mrs.  Lewis  Brown  was  a  sister  to  Mrs.  Jerome  Bonaparte, 
the  sister-in-law  of  the  great  Napoleon,  and  her  above 
named  children  were  cousins  of  the  Countess,  whose  pic- 
ture in  the  "Puritan"  arrested  my  attention. 

Horatio  Brown  was  a  member  of  my  company  in  the 
Confederate  army.  I  know  the  family  intimately  and  hence 
my  recognition  of  the  family  resemblance  between  the 
Countess  and  her  whilom  Texas  kindred. 

The  "Puritan"  article  reads : 

An  American  Countess. 

"Scarcely  a  season  passes  without  a  marriage  between 
some  Washington  belle  and  a  member  of  one  of  the  foreign 
legations  at  the  American  capital.  One  of  the  latest  acqui- 
sitions of  the  diplomatic  corps  is  the  Countess  Adam  Von 
Moltke-Huitfeldt,  nee  Bonaparte,  whose  maiden  name  sug- 
gests a  historical  international  romance.  She  is  the  great 
granddaughter  of  the  Miss  Elizabeth  Patterson,  of  Balti- 
more, who  became  the  wife — the  legal,  though  discarded 
wife — of  Jerome  Bonaparte,  King  of  Westphalia,  and 
brother  of  the  great  Napoleon.  On  the  side  of  her  mother, 
who  was  Miss  Caroline  Leroy  Appleton,  she  is  a  great 
granddaughter  of  Daniel  Webster.  The  Empress  Eugenie 
was  her  godmother." 


SANTA  ANNA'S  SILVER  WASH  BASIN. 


There  is  inate  in  the  human  mind  a  regard  for  relics  and 
curios  carried  by  some  even  to  the  extent  of  quasi  worship. 

Do  I  believe  in  encouraging  such  regard?  I  do,  when  the 
end  favors  altruism  or  patriotism. 

Just  after  the  war  with  Mexico,  I  remember  when  trav- 
eling on  the  Mississippi  River  below  St.  Louis,  all  the  pas- 
sengers went  on  deck  to  get  a  better  view  of  "Old  Whitie," 
General  Zachary  Taylor's  war  horse  grazing  in  a  pasture. 

What  kid  visits  the  National  Capital  without  a  sight  of 
General  Washington's  well-worn  clothes  and  his  camp  uten- 
sils used  at  Valley  Forge  and  the  wall  papering  at  Mount 
Vernon  done  by  General  La  Fayette's  own  hands. 

But  right  here  in  Tarrant  County  Mrs.  Josephine  Ryan, 
the  step-granddaughter  of  Capt.  E.  M.  Daggett,  owns  the 
silver  ivash  basin  captured  from  General  Santa  Anna  by 
Daggett  in  the  Mexican  War  in  1847.  Captain  Daggett 
commanded  a  cavalry  company  in  the  famous  Jack  Hays 
Texas  Regiment  at  the  time.  In  1857,  General  Houston 
and  Hardin  R.  Runnels  were  candidates  for  Governor  of 
Texas.  Runnels  was  the  nominee  of  the  Democratic  Waco 
Convention,  of  which  Daggett  was  a  member,  while  Hous- 
ton ran  independently.  General  Houston  and  Lewis  T. 
Wigfall — who  spoke  in  behalf  of  Runnels — met  in  discus- 
sion at  Birdville  in  this  county,  but  passed  the  night  in 
Fort  Worth.  Runnels  accepted  the  hospitality  of  Col.  Nat 
Terry  while  Capt.  Daggett  entertained  General  Houston. 
Houston's  wound  in  the  leg,  received  in  the  battle  of  San 
Jacinto  in  1836,  was  a  running  sore,  and  in  fact  never 
healed.  It  needed  frequent  dressing,  and  Captain  Dagget 
used  this  Santa  Anna  silver  wash  bowl  that  night,  and  with 
his  own  hands  dressed  the  wound.  Nevertheless  Captain 
Daggett  voted  for  Runnels,  although  he  was  a  dear  lover 
of  Houston.  General  Houston  was  not  then  forgiven  by 
the  people  of  Texas  for  presenting  to  the  United  States 
Senate  the  "petition  of  ten  thousand  vice-regents  of  Heaven 


SANTA  ANNA'S  SILVER  WASH  BASIN.  75 

(preachers)  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of 
Columbia  and  in  the  ports,  arsenals  and  dock  yards  of  the 
United  States." 

Surely,  this  relic,  hallowed  by  such  memories  should  be 
deposited  in  our  Carnegie  Library  with  the  curios  pre- 
sented by  Capt.  M.  B.  Loyd,  Judge  A.  W.  Terrell  and  other 
donors,  to  be  seen  of  all. 

True,  we  have  the  face  of  Captain  Daggett  on  our  city 
seal,  but  his  name  could  better  be  perpetuated  by  present- 
ing this  historical  relic  as  indicated. 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52  WITH  EX- 
TRACTS FROM  MY  OLD  DIARY. 


My  wife  placed  in  my  hands  an  old  book  containing  mem- 
oranda of  my  overland  trip  to  California  in  1852,  and  asked 
me  to  write  an  account  of  that  journey. 

I  was  raised  on  a  farm  near  Booneville,  Mo.,  and  was  edu- 
cated there  at  Kemper  school.  Of  course  most  of  my  asso- 
ciates were  frontier  boys.  All  could  swim,  and  most  of  them 
were  good  shots.  I  had  read  Lewis  &  Clark's  book,  Cooper's 
novels,  and  Irving's  works,  but  longed  to  see  the  Great 
West  for  myself.  Two  years  I  had  lived  in  St.  Joseph,  Mo., 
with  my  brother  and  guardian,  A.  W.  Terrell. 

At  this  point  most  of  the  California,  Salt  Lake,  and 
Oregon  emigrants  bought  their  outfit,  a  matter  of 
great  importance  for  a  journey  of  sixteen  hundred 
miles  through  a  wilderness,  where  neither  love  nor  money 
could  procure  the  necessaries  of  life.  My  company  was  com- 
posed of  three :  A.  Fuqua,  a  widower,  farmer,  35  years  old ; 
Powhatan  B.  Whitehead,  a  cowboy,  23,  and  myself,  20  years 
old.  I  owned  most  of  the  outfit.  Our  wagon  was  well  cov- 
ered and  had  sideboards  extending  over  the  wheels,  afford- 
ing room  for  sleeping  in  rainy  weather,  but  ordinarily  we 
preferred  sleeping  on  the  ground.  We  had  three  yoke  of 
oxen,  one  yoke  of  milch  cows,  a  good  dog — Ranger — a  few 
extra  yoke  bows,  some  small  rope,  two  horses,  some  extra 
horseshoes  and  nails,  axe,  hatchet,  auger  and  a  few  other 
things  in  that  line  in  the  tool  box.  As  for  medicines,  five 
gallons  of  pure  cognac  brandy,  some  Tutt's  pills  and  a  few 
bottles  of  lemon  syrup  and  acetic  acid  to  counteract  alkali 
water,  constituted  our  dispensary. 

Thinking  the  trip  to  Sacramento  City  could  be  made  in 
four  months,  provisions  were  laid  in  accordingly,  consist- 
ing of  flour  in  sacks,  prepared  corn  meal,  dried  fruit,  rice, 
beans,  coffee,  tea,  bacon,  etc.  We  had  a  tray,  an  oven,  two 
frying  pans,  skillet  and  coffee  pots,  two  water  buckets,  a 
lantern,  candles,  tin  plates,  cups,  matches,  etc.  Of  course 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  77 

we  had  good  arms  and  ammunition,  a  plentiful  supply  of 
fishing  tackle,  and  a  good  tent.  The  latter  proved  to  be  a 
nuisance,  and  in  three  weeks  we  threw  it  away,  retaining 
the  fly. 

On  the  3rd  day  of  May,  1852,  I  started  from  St.  Joseph, 
Mo.,  and  camped  four  miles  above  the  city,  at  Duncan's 
Ferry.  Under  a  written  contract  with  my  partners  I  was 
to  neither  cook,  drive  nor  milk,  but  was  to  care  for  my  own 
horse  and  stand  guard  only.  This  was  like  written  repub- 
lican constitutions  to  the  Latin  races — good  in  theory  but 
bad  in  practice.  I  could  yoke  up  and  drive  oxen,  but 
could  not  milk.  However,  there  was  work  enough  for  all, 
and  we  got  on  well  to  the  last,  except  as  to  the  milking.  My 
partners  loved  coffee.  The  cows  were  soon  dried  up,  and 
I  substituted  sugar  and  water  for  milk. 

I  always  hated  to  tell  my  friends  good-bye.  The  weather 
was  gloomy,  cold,  and  rainy,  and  I,  drenched  to  the  skin, 
slept  in  my  clothes  the  first  night  in  camp.  My  only  rela- 
tive in  Missouri  had  moved  to  Austin,  Texas,  and,  raised 
an  orphan,  unused  to  labor  or  hardship  of  any  kind,  I  felt 
for  the  first  time  practically  alone  in  the  world  and  de- 
pendent solely  upon  myself. 

Next  day  we  crossed  the  Missouri  river  in  a  flat  boat. 
Passing  through  what  is  now  Doniphan  County,  Kansas,  a 
most  beautiful  country,  some  twenty-five  miles  to  the  In- 
dian agency,  dined  with  Major  Richardson,  the  agent,  and 
he,  with  his  family,  bade  me  God  speed.  "Drs.  Beckham 
and  Taylor  are  waiting  here  for  Perry's  train  to  take  them 
to  California."  So  even  then  passenegers  were  taken  across, 
fed,  etc.,  by  contract,  but  never,  so  far  as  I  know,  with 
satisfaction  to  the  passengers. 

The  Wells  family,  also  of  St.  Joseph,  consisting  of  the 
aged  couple  and  six  children — five  boys  and  one  girl — the 
youngest,  Miss  Cassie,  18  years  old,  graduate  of  a  New 
York  seminary,  and  highly  accomplished.  She  sang  and 
played  well  on  the  guitar.  The  five  brothers  were 
illiterate,  but  stout,  brave,  good  men,  hunters  and  trappers, 
and  for  years  had,  with  their  guns  and  traps,  supported 
their  parents  and  educated  Miss  Cassie,  the  idol  of  the  f  ami- 


78  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

ly.  Their  outfit  consisted  of  two  large  wagons  loaded  with 
all  sorts  of  provisions  and  absolutely  all  of  their  homestead 
furniture,  from  old  bedsteads  to  the  family  clock.  They 
even  brought  the  chickens  along,  and  they  were  trained  so 
as  to  give  little  trouble.  Mrs.  Wells  said  she  left  only  the 
ash  hopper.  Their  teams  were  oxen  and  cows,  and  they  had 
several  fine  riding  horses  and  some  loose  cattle.  Miss  Cas- 
sie's  four-year-old  baby  gelding  was  a  beauty,  but  looked 
sie's  four-year-old  bay  gelding  was  a  beauty.  Cassie's  com- 
plexion was  very  fine,  her  hair  long  and  black,  and  often 
worn  "a  la  Indian."  Her  eyes  were  coal  black.  She  stood 
a  little  over  the  medium  height ;  in  form  a  very  Venus.  She 
loved  books.  I  had  brought  some  along,  mostly  romances, 
and  when  the  weather  was  good  we  would  ride  several  miles 
ahead  of  the  train  to  pick  the  camping  ground,  and  with 
books  and  fishing  tackle  whiled  away  the  time  until  our 
folks  came  up.  We  thus  traveled  many  a  hundred  miles, 
to  Independent  Rock,  on  Weber  River,  in  now  Wyoming  Ter- 
ritory. A  red-headed  man  from  Pike  County,  Illinois,  was 
working  his  way  across  with  the  Wells.  He  was  very  par- 
tial to  Miss  Cassie,  always  attended  to  her  horse,  and  ex- 
pressed unusual  concern  as  to  her  safety  when  with  me. 
Of  course  I  became  suspicious.  From  the  8th  to  the  15th 
nothing  of  interest  transpired  except  an  occasional  stam- 
pede and  the  many  deaths  from  Asiatic  cholera  and  small- 
pox. Dr.  Beckham  says  that  he  attributes  the  numerous 
deaths  to  self-administration  of  strong  remedies,  coupled 
with  unaccustomed  exposure.  I  am  glad  we  brought  only 
the  pills  and  brandy,  yet  untaken  and  untasted.  Mrs.  Daw- 
son,  a  friend  from  St.  Jo.,  an  elderly  widow  lady,  died  today 
of  cholera.  She  was  accompanied  by  two  grown  daughters 
and  was  their  only  protector.  Their  brother,  John,  is  a 
wealthy  man,  a  "49er"  and  proprietor  of  the  Dawson  House 
in  Sacramento  City. 

The  officials  at  Fort  Kearney  estimated  that  over  31,000 
people,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  passed  overland  this  year. 
The  number  that  died  can  never  be  known.  I  saw  hundreds 
of  newly-made  graves.  In  some  instances  the  remains  were 
buried  so  shallow  that  they  were  scratched  up  and  de- 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  79 

voured  by  wolves,  the  torn  shrouds  and  bones  being  all  that 
was  left.  Seeing  this,  some  would  haul  rocks  from  a  dist- 
ance to  place  on  the  graves  of  their  dead,  and  thus 
baffle  the  wolves.  This  country  was  infested  by  a  large 
gray  wolf,  as  big  as  the  Texas  "loafer"  wolf.  They  were 
more  numerous  near  large  herds  of  buffalo,  and  preyed 
upon  the  aged,  young  and  diseased  of  these  beasts. 

As  a  rule  the  emigrants  honored  the  Sabbath  day  and 
tried  to  keep  it  holy  by  laying  over.  Sometimes  we  listened 
to  sermons  from  divines  of  various  beliefs.  We  were  often 
regaled  by  good  music,  songs  in  different  languages,  and 
we  had  an  occasional  dance. 

The  herding  and  guarding  of  the  stock  was  of  vital  im- 
portance, and  they  were  closely  guarded  at  night.  This 
caused  great  loss  of  sleep,  and  I,  like  Joseph  in  Pickwick 
Papers,  was  young  and  sleepy-headed.  I  more  than  once, 
in  after  years,  shielded  boy  soldiers  from  punishment  for 
being  caught  napping  on  guard  duty.  Every  night  from 
two  to  three  hours  guard  duty.  It  was  horrible! 

How,  in  such  a  multitude,  far  removed  from  civilization, 
without  officers  or  jails,  were  the  vicious  restrained  and 
punished  and  the  weak  and  good  protected?  Judge  Lynch 
presided;  a  rough  tribunal,  from  whose  judgments  there 
was  no  appeal.  Hung  juries  and  new  trials  were  unknown. 
His  decisions  were  universally  applauded — or  criticised  with 
rare  discretion.  To  illustrate:  One  morning,  cooking 
breakfast,  two  partners  quarreled.  One,  stooping  over  a 
skillett  was,  from  behind,  stabbed  to  the  heart.  His  slayer 
was  immediately  disarmed  and  his  hands  tied.  A  man  had 
presided  as  Judge  in  Illinois,  a  stranger,  was  forced  to  pre- 
side as  Judge,  and  attorneys  appointed  to  prosecute  and  de- 
fend; a  jury  of  twelve  men,  also  strangers,  were  empaneled; 
and,  after  argument  and  charge,  the  defendant  was  found 
guilty  and  sentenced  to  be  hung — which  was  done  instanter, 
from  two  elevated  wagon  tongues  tied  together,  the  fore- 
wheels  scotched  with  ox-yokes,  for  there  were  neither  trees 
nor  rocks.  The  foregoing,  set  out  in  legal  parlance  and 
signed  by  the  judge  and  jury  and  tacked  to  a  board,  was 
placed  on  the  grave. 


80  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

We  had  been  traveling  in  a  northwesterly  direction  from 
St.  Jo.  "The  country  is  a  wilderness,  abounding  in  game; 
it  is  very  windy  and  cold,"  says  my  old  diary.  Right  here  I 
remember  being  on  guard  twice  in  one  night.  I  made  oxen  get 
up  that  I  might  lie  down  and  benefit  from  their  warm  places. 
Neither  Fuqua  nor  Whitehead  were  good  cooks.  Anything 
that  was  filling  would  do  them,  while  I,  stout  as  a  bullock, 
was  rather  fastidious.  We  had  been  living  on  plain  flapjacks, 
bacon  and  coffee.  The  cows  were  about  dried  up.  My  desire 
for  variety  was  laughed  at  by  the  others,  and  although  we 
had  lots  to  eat  in  our  stores,  dried  fruit,  etc.,  they  would  not 
cook  it  for  me,  and  I  did  not  know  how  to  cook  it.  I  told  them 
that  to  do  my  guard  duty  that  night  I  would  kill  an  antelope 
— numbers  being  in  sight — so  about  3  o'clock  I  pitched  out 
about  a  mile  from  camp  and  hid  in  a  gully,  and  by  putting 
my  hat  on  my  ramrod  and  raising  and  lowering  it,  brought 
them  within  fifty  yards.  I  brought  down  a  fat  buck  and 
packed  his  hams  to  camp.  Pow  went  for  the  remainder 
and  only  returned  with  part.  The  ever  watchful  wolves 
got  the  rest.  Who  would  think  that  ambition,  away  out 
here  in  the  wilderness,  would  exist?  I  copy  from  my  jour- 
nal: "We  would  have  had  quite  a  pleasant  time  but  for 
the  disposition  of  some  to  push  themselves  forward  as 
captains  and  commanders."  Met  Mr.  Joseph  Rheohadeux, 
of  St.  Jo.  He  had  counted  3,500  wagons  between  this  and 
Fort  Laramie. 

24th  of  May:  Am  troubled  with  great  boil  on  my  neck. 
Arrived  at  the  Main  Platte,  which  gives  its  turbid  appear- 
ance to  the  Missouri.  Had  a  good  bath,  and  watisd  across 
to  Grand  Island,  in  water  only  two  feet  deep.  Arrived  at 
Fort  Kearney.  The  commander  told  me  that  he  would  not 
furnish  government  provisions  to  those  going  west,  but 
would  give  provisions  to  those  discouraged  and  wishing  tq 
return  to  the  States.  He  furnished  me  the  following : 

"Going  West  to  Date — 8,174  men,  1,286  women,  1,776 
children,  2,543  horses,  2,316  mules,  26,269  cattle,  264 
wagons,  501  sheep,  and  one  hog." 

So  we  were  just  in  the  rear  of  one-third  of  the  total  west- 
ward emigration  for  the  year.  This  from  the  journal: 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  81 

"Twelve  miles  above  Fort  Kearney,  at  the  junction  of  the 
roads,  we  held  a  council  and  unanimously  agreed  to  cross 
the  river  and  take  the  Council  Bluffs  road." 

Here  the  river  is  from  one  to  two  miles  wide  and  from 
two  to  four  feet  deep,  with  quicksand  bottom,  and  in  cross- 
ing the  wagon  made  a  noice  like  the  rolling  of  pork  barrels. 
I  waded  over  half  way  across,  assiting  the  drivers.  Camped 
half  a  mile  below  the  ford,  on  second  bottom;  lifted  the 
wagon  bed  with  props  above  the  running  gear  so  as  to  keep 
provisions  from  getting  wet.  The  flour  sacks  did  get  wet. 
I  feared  that  it  would  spoil  the  flour,  but  an  old  trapper 
said,  "This  little  -bath  will  do  it  good;  only  the  sacks  are 
wet;"  and  he  was  right.  Here  we  brought  out  the  wash- 
boards and  did  general  washing.  It  was  my  first  experience, 
and  I  was  not  included  in  the  "contract."  Some  beautiful 
mountain  streams  flow  south  into  the  Platte,  and  one  d^v 
Miss  Cassie  and  I,  going  up  stream  to  find  a  spring,  on  turn- 
ing a  hill  came  within  300  yards  of  a  large  Pawnee  Indian 
camp.  Halting,  I  told  her  to  flee  to  the  train,  some  three 
miles  south  of  us,  while  I  followed  slowly,  covering  her  re- 
treat, until  admonished  by  the  proximity  of  the  Indians 
and  a  shot  from  them,  when  I  double-quicked  and  joined  her 
in  about  300  yards  of  our  train.  She  saw  the  Indians,  and 
heard  the  shooting;  it  was  a  nice  little  scare.  The  Indians 
did  all  in  their  power  to  herd  the  buffalo  and  other  game 
from  the  trail.  Feeling  somewhat  of  a  hero,  I  called  on 
the  Wells  that  night.  Of  course  our  being  chased  was  the 
theme,  and  the  speed  of  our  horses  alone  saved  us.  The 
red-haired  man's  remarks  were  not  complimentary.  Fool 
that  I  was,  I  was  too  young  then  to  understand.  We  would 
miss  the  Wells.  Today  we  had  a  feast.  Joe  Wells  killed 
a  young  elk  and  divided.  But  for  Buffalo  chips  we  would 
fare  badly  for  fuel.  "Pow"  takes  one  side  of  an  open  two- 
bushel  sack,  and  I,  holding  the  other  side,  in  a  walk  of  n 
hundred  yards,  we  filled  it  with  old  buffalo  chips.  It  is 
best  first  to  start  a  small  wood  fire,  placing  elk  and  deer 
horns  above,  to  insure  ventilation;  then  cover  with  chips, 
and  in  a  short  time  you  have  a  good  fire.  Wait  a  little,  and 


82  EARLY  DAYS  OF  PORT  WORTH. 

from  the  horns  and  bones  you  have  a  lasting  fire  for  boil- 
ing purposes. 

Here  we  have  the  buffalo,  the  Indian's  beef,  furnishing 
robes  and  fuel.  With  the  buffalo  passes  the  wolf,  which 
feeds  upon  them ;  then  the  beef  steer  appears ;  the  bear,  the 
Indian's  bacon,  lapses,  and  lo,  the  hog  appears,  for  the 
white  man — and  the  upbuilding  of  our  Fort  Worth. 

Several  hundred  of  the  Mormons,  from  nearly  every 
country  in  Europe,  wintered  in  St.  Jo.  and  en  route  to 
Salt  Lake.  Many  small,  two-wheeled  carts  are  hauled  by 
their  young  women,  tandem,  being  loaded  with  children, 
etc.  They  get  along  about  as  well  as  we  do.  Young  women 
stand  hardship  and  exposure  far  better  than  men  or  their 
elders  of  either  sex.  They  dance  longer,  with  more  vim, 
retire  later  and  get  up  earlier  than  the  opposite  sex.  I  met 
quite  a  belle,  a  well  educated  Morman  English  lady,  at  a 
ball  at  the  City  Hotel  in  St.  Jo.,  then  kept  by  Major  A.  J. 
Vaughn.  She  loved  to  defend  her  church  and  boldly  an- 
nounced her  belief  in  polygamy,  and  attributed  the  physical 
superiority  of  the  Turks  to  their  temperate  lives  and  this 
plank  in  their  religious  platform.  These  people  are  good 
mechanics;  some  well  educated;  but  all  off  color  on  the 
Bible  question,  and  my  study  of  them  has  caused  me  to 
be  exceedingly  charitable  concerning  their  belief  in  the  un- 
known and  unknowable. 

Col.  A.  W.  Doniphan,  who  led  the  famous  expedition 
through  North  Mexico  in  1847,  the  hero  of  the  battle  of 
Sacramento,  and  who  was  instrumental  in  expelling  the  Mor- 
mons from  Missouri,  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
Brigham  Young.  I  wanted  to  go  through  Salt  Lake  City, 
but,  although  owner  of  the  outfit,  I  had  but  one  vote,  and 
north  of  Salt  Lake  we  went,  about  100  miles.  The  Mor- 
mons having  been  roughly  expelled  from  Illinois  and  Mis- 
souri, hated  people  from  those  States,  therefor  Illinois  and 
Missouri  emigrants,  as  a  rule,  took  the  northern  route.  That 
emigrants  from  these  States  were  roughly  handled  by  the 
Mormons  there  is  no  doubt.  Even  at  that  time,  the  Federal 
Judge  had  been  expelled  from  Utah;  the  year  following 
(1853)  Col.  Steptoe,  of  the  Army,  was  appointed  Governor 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  83 

in  place  of  Brigham  Young,  removed,  but  Brigham  said,  "I 
am  and  will  be  Governor,  and  no  power  can  hinder  it  until 
the  Lord  Almighty  says,  'Brigham,  you  need  not  be  Governor 
any  longer ;'  "  and  he  remained  Governor. 

This  from  my  journal:  "Came  five  miles  to  good  camp- 
ing ground;  attempted  to  hunt  game  we  saw  on  an  island. 
We  forded ;  I,  being  of  low  stature,  led  the  way ;  Campbell, 
being  tall,  followed  with  ammunition  and  guns ;  he,  less  for- 
tunate than  I,  fell  in  a  deep  hole  and  lost  both.  Determined 
to  have  our  hunt  out,  we  went  several  miles  north  of  the 
trail,  and,  seeing  ten  objects  which  looked  like  buffalo,  we 
approached  and  so  did  they.  It  was  a  Pawnee  war  party, 
without  doubt,  and  at  that  time  they  were  not  friendly. 
They  separated  and  tried  to  cut  us  off  from  the  trail.  We 
had  the  best  horses,  and,  after  a  two-mile  run  they  stopped. 
In  a  little  bottom  we  ran  at  full  speed  through  a  prairie 
dog  town,  a  dangerous  thing  to  do,  but  we  were  excusable 
under  the  circumstances.  Two  of  our  company  remained 
at  a  camp  after  we  started,  and  following,  passed  ahead,  we 
having  turned  out  of  the  road  to  camp.  They  walked  fully 
thirty  miles  before  locating  us,  who  had  only  come  five  miles. 
My  dog's  feet  were  worn  sore  by  incessantly  chasing  game, 
especially  mule-eared  rabbits.  I  shod  him  with  buckskin, 
tied  on  below  his  dew-claws,  but  finally  made  him  ride  in 
the  wagon." 

Here  we  are  at  Fort  Laramie,  a  strong  military  position, 
situated  at  the  junction  and  between  the  North  and  South 
Platte  Rivers,  the  latter  now  mapped  as  Lawrence  River,  oc- 
cupied by  a  strong  garrison  which  raises  its  own  corn  and 
vegetables  and  attempts  to  hold  down  the  finest  looking 
and  most  warlike  Indians  on  the  continent,  possessing  num- 
erous beautiful  horses.  Two  years  after  this,  in  1854,  all 
this  garrison,  including  women  and  children,  were  cruelly 
massacred  by  these  Sioux  Indians. 

The  oxen  and  horses  must  be  shod — cows  even  worse  than 
the  oxen,  pull  against  each  other  in  the  yoke,  which  wears 
off  the  outside  of  their  hoofs.  Changing  them  in  the  yoke 
does  little  good.  "They  charge  here  at  the  Government  post 
private  enterprise  with  a  pull — sixteen  dollars  for  shoeing 


84  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

oxen  by  the  yoke,  and  fifty  cents  per  dozen  for  nails.  Hav- 
ing two  good  blacksmiths  in  our  company,  we  paid  twenty- 
five  dollars  for  the  use  of  the  shop  for  one  night.  Our  men 
made  shoes,  etc.,  from  iron  obtained  from  broken  down 
vehicles.  They  made  sixty-four  shoes,  with  more  nails  than 
enough,  and  worked  all  night,  thus  saving  $20.75.  We 
surely  thanked  Mr.  Campbell  and  Mr.  Forman.  Strange,  I 
am  too  feeble  to  walk,  yet  feel  that  I  am  perfectly  well. 
They  falsely  accuse  me  of  taking  a  whole  box  of  Tutt's  pills, 
because  the  box  was  missing.  Are  traveling  up  north  side 
of  North  Platte;  hilly,  dusty  and  very  deep  sand;  beautiful 
roses  in  sight,  and  general  health  of  the  voyagers  good. 
Left  the  river;  lots  of  blacktail  deer. 

23d  June.  Camped  on  Sweetwater  River ;  with  Miss  Cas- 
sie  ascended  an  elevation  and  obtained  a  most  beautiful 
view  of  the  surrounding  country.  One  never  tires  of  walk- 
ing. We  have  arrived  at  Independence  Rock.  Right  here 
Baron  Von  Humboldt  camped,  on  the  north  side,  and  caused 
his  name  to  be  printed — the  boys  think  with  common  tar 
— high  up,  but  in  a  concave  place,  where  rain  can  never 
reach.  Walking  this  evening  near  camp  I  saw  the  name, 
in  pencil,  of  my  school  chum,  Ralph  Douglass,  of  Bates 
County,  Mo.,  on  a  cedar  tree,  the  very  last  trace  of  him  his 
family  ever  had. 

I  only  mention  the  soda  and  hot  springs  left  left  behind. 
They  exist  in  different  countries;  but  Independent  Rock, 
Echo  Canon,  and  the  Devil's  Gate,  to  me,  as  curiosities  of 
this  continent  rank  with  the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia  and 
Niagara  Falls.  Arriving  at  the  Devil's  Gate  we  remained 
three  days.  Miss  Cassie  and  I  caught  a  string  of  small 
fish  and  loaded  back  to  camp  with  cedar  fagots.  Made  a 
trade  with  an  Ohio  man  going  to  Oregon;  swapped  for  his 
four  splendid  mules,  in  good  condition,  and  gave  frm  sev- 
enty-five dollars  to  boot  and  three  yoke  of  oxen  and  two 
yoke  of  cows.  The  cows  cost  me  forty  dollars  a  yoke,  and 
the  steers  seventy-five  dollars  a  yoke,  making  the  mules 
cost  me  about  ninety-five  dollars  each.  Opened  a  store  and 
sold  surplus  provisions,  clothing,  etc.,  in  opposition  to 
Archambeaux,  the  trapper  and  trader,  with  Indian  wife. 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  85 

He  has  a  store  in  twenty  rods  of  us.  How  I  hated  to  part 
from  my  animals  and  dog,  all  tried  friends,  for  Ranger  can 
not  keep  up  with  us  now,  going  twenty  to  thirty-five  miles 
a  day.  Swapped  the  wagon  for  pack  saddles  and  some 
lessons  on  how  to  pack.  I  remember  we  placed  the  fat  bacon, 
surrounded  by  flour.  The  principal  difficulty  was  in  learn- 
ing to  pack  our  molasses  kegs.  Now  came  trouble.  It  was 
agreed  by  us  that  each  should  take  seven  pounds  of  baggage 
and  no  more.  I  left  lots  of  surplus  clothing;  gave  Miss 
Cassie  my  books — of  which  I  had  quite  a  number — only 
retained  a  razor  and  strop,  two  pair  of  drawers  and  one 
strong  hickory  shirt.  Only  had  one  pair  of  well-worn  moc- 
casins, one  pair  of  pants — buckskin — which  have  shrunk 
above  my  pastern  joints.  My  straw  hat  is  about  worn  out. 
This  old  weather-beaten  journal  in  my  lap,  and  the  New 
Testament  given  me  by  my  mother,  are  the  only  mementoes 
I  retain  of  those  days.  We  listened  to  a  good  sermon  the 
night  we  arrived  at  the  "Gate/'  I  sat  by  Miss  Cassie.  We 
talked  of  parting,  etc.,  until  late  at  night.  I  passed  her 
wagon;  a  candle  was  burning  in  it.  Extending  her  arm 
from  under  the  wagon  seat  she  told  me  "Good-bye,"  and 
said,  "I  made  this  for  you/'  That  worn,  sad,  old  book-mark, 
worked  that  night,  over  fifty  years  ago,  is  yet  in  the  Testa- 
ment. We  had  hunted  and  fished,  climbed  hills,  read  and 
"told  tales"  together  for  many  weeks.  It  was  real  sad  to 
part  with  Cassie,  and,  under  the  then  conditions,  I  was 
just  a  little  sorry  for  the  red-haired  man. 

Poor  Ranger,  he  followed  us  for  two  days,  but  finally 
had  to  give  it  up,  for  we  made  from  twenty-five  to  thirty 
miles  a  day,  and  his  feet  could  not  stand  it.  I  was  tempted 
to  shoot  him.  I  bought  a  mare  pony  from  Mr.  Rheubadeau, 
of  St.  Jo.,  the  very  hardiest  animal  I  ever  saw,  foaled  in 
these  mountains;  she  did  not  know  grain,  and  kept  fat — a 
natural  pacer. 

During  the  night  the  cayotes  would  attempt  to  steal  our 
provisions,  but  we  outwitted  them  by  placing  the  provisions 
at  our  feet  when  we  slept. 

Every  day  we  are  passing  those  gentlemen  who,  in  a 
hurry,  passed  us.  Generally  their  teams  are  poor  and  they 


86  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

realize  that  they  drove  too  hard.  We  are  following  Sweet- 
water  River  and  are  delighted  with  packing,  now  that  we 
are  broken  to  adjusting  the  packs,  etc.  Camped  on  Little 
Sandy,  clear  and  deep,  but  fordable.  Am  troubled  about 
Mr.  Fuqua's  sickness,  and  neither  'Tow"  nor  I  know  what 
to  do  for  him.  He  can  hardly  sit  his  mule,  but  is  better 
today.  We  are  near  perpetual  snow.  Heavy  frost  last  night. 
Slept  cold  beneath  blankets.  At  the  junction  of  the  Fort 
Hall  and  Salt  Lake  roads  I  took  the  latter  twenty-five  miles 
so  as  to  avoid  Green  River  desert.  .Green  River  is  a  most 
beautiful  stream.  Met  my  friend,  J.  Hoiliday,  a  Salt  Lake 
trader,  and  his  assistant,  C.  H.  Littler.  Invited  to  dinner 
by  them.  I  was  surprised.  Eggs  and  new  pork,  new  po- 
tatoes and  other  vegetables,  obtained  in  Salt  Lake  Valley 
south  of  us ;  so,  as  this  is  the  third,  I  count  and  celebrate  it 
for  the  Fourth  of  July,  tomorrow  being  Sunday. 

July  4,  1852.  It  snowed  on  us  tonight,  three  and  a  half 
inches.  I  was  wet  and  cold  all  night,  and  in  the  morning 
every  bone  in  my  body  ached.  The  two  days  following  I 
was  no  better.  They  called  it  "mountain  fever."  It  was 
bilious  fever. 

One  day,  in  looking  across  a  deep  depression  to  the  top  of 
the  opposite  hill,  some  five  miles,  we  saw  the  trail  and 
wagons  there.  The  guide  book  said  it  would  take  thirty-five 
miles  travel  to  make  that  five  miles.  We  decided  to  make 
a  short  cut  and  boldly  descended  the  hill,  following  what 
seemed  to  be  an  old  trail.  We  found  the  opposite  ascent 
too  steep,  and,  going  in  a  southwesterly  direction  for  many 
miles  to  a  valley,  we  saw  two  Indians  herding  horses.  Turn- 
ing northward  at  the  valley  we  were  soon  in  a  Sioux  In- 
dian village.  The  Indians  assisted  us  in  unpacking  and 
took  our  stock  off,  but  did  not  disarm  us.  About  dark  they 
set  boiled  meat  before  us,  of  which  "Pow"  and  I  ate  hearti- 
ly. Mr.  Fuqua  preferred  jerked  buffalo.  The  Indians  re- 
turned our  stock  next  morning.  We  in  turn  gave  them 
some  ammunition,  and  with  a  general  hand-shaking  we 
parted.  Mr.  Fuqua  declared  that  "Pow"  and  I  had  eaten 
stewed  dog.  He  said  he  saw  the  head  and  hide  of  the  dog, 
and,  as  he  never  joked,  we  put  it  down  as  true. 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  87 

Alkali  dust  is  painful  to  eyes  and  lips  in  spite  of  goggles 
and  veils,  which  are  uncomfortably  hot.  Evidences  of  vol- 
canic eruptions  abound.  It  seems  that  every  spot  of  the 
earth  at  some  time  has  had  its  seismic  troubles,  and  I  know 
that  water  at  one  time  covered  all  lands,  because  I  saw 
beds  of  unmistakable  oyster  shells  on  the  top  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

0 

On  a  hot  day,  fevered  and  jogging  along  on  my  mule,  sur- 
rounded by  clouds  of  alkali  dust,  I  dreamed  the  same  dream, 
or,  rather,  saw  the  same  "vision"  many  times.  I  was  com- 
fortably seated  in  a  large,  cool  hall  with  floor  of  tasselated 
marble,  and  ceiling  supported  by  massive  columns.  From 
a  distance  a  coal-black  colored  man,  perspiring  freely  and 
wearing  a  snow-white  cap  and  apron,  holding  with  both 
hands  a  silver  waiter,  slowly  approached.  As  he  drew 
nearer  I  heard  the  tinkling  sound  of  ice  in  a  pitcher.  He 
slowly  filled  a  transparent  goblet  with  water.  I  eagerly 
sized  the  vessel,  whose  coldness  I  could  feel,  and  tremblingly 
placed  it  to  my  parched  lips — here  I  awoke,  so  disappointed, 
to  see  Mr.  Fuqua  through  the  dust  leading  the  mare  pony 
followed  by  the  pack  mules  and  "Pow."  This  dream  recalled 
Tentallus  of  old. 

One  day  at  noon,  while  Mr.  Fuqua  and  "Pow"  unpacked 
and  made  a  fire,  I  took  the  bucket  and  went  to  a  small 
mountain  stream  for  water.  Kneeling  at  the  brink  I  saw  a 
large  mountain  trout,  near  the  grass-covered  bank  under 
me.  I  cut  it  in  two  with  my  side  knife  and  secured  the 
parts,  started  to  camp  with  the  water,  and  that  is  all  I 
remember  till  awakened  by  "Pow,"  who  said,  "Come  to 
dinner."  The  boil  on  my  neck  was  immense  in  size  and 
very  painful.  It  had  bursted,  and  they  found  me  asleep  in 
the  sun  on  a  big  rock,  the  fish  and  water  by  my  side.  "Pow" 
had  cooked  the  fish  for  me.  Two  days  after  this  I  shot 
a  chaparal  hen  and  "Pow"  cooked  that  for  me,  too.  He  is 
a  big-hearted  man,  and  has  learned  to  be  a  good  cook. 
Weak  and  alseep  I  more  than  once  fell  off  my  mule.  He 
made  a  wide  circingle,  with  buckles  to  come  over  my  knees, 
to  strap,  and  thus  tied  me  in  the  saddle.  We  were  travel- 
ing then,  according  to  the  guide  book,  at  the  rate  of  twenty- 


88  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

five  to  forty  miles  a  day.  'Tow"  never  got  sick,  for  he  had 
lived  an  outdoor  life.  Poor  fellow,  I  never  saw  him  after 
we  separated  at  Diamond  Springs.  He  and  Mr.  Fuqua  died 
within  three  years  after  crossing.  We  made  a  great  mis- 
take in  parting  with  the  wagon  and  its  hundreds  of  com- 
forts. Although  slow,  it  was  sure.  The  Wells  were  six 
months  en  route,  but  they  came  through  healthy,  with 
their  stock  in  fine  condition,  when  beef  steak  was  worth 
fifty  cents  a  pound.  We  had  such  confidence  in  our  stock 
that  we  only  hoppled  one  at  a  time  and  stood  no  guard. 
One  night,  camped  near  a  willow  thicket  on  a  river,  the 
stock  came,  frightened,  to  the  very  camp  fire,  caused 
by  prowling  Digger  Indians,  the  lowest  beings  in  the  scale 
of  humanity  without  a  doubt.  They  would,  from  the  wil- 
lows, shoot  arrows  into  cattle,  which,  killed  or  disabled,  be- 
came their  prey. 

One  day  I  overhauled  one  of  these  Indians  and  his  wife. 
They  had  a  worn-out  emigrant  pony,  an  old  musket,  the 
carcass  of  a  freshly  killed  antelope  strapped  on  the  pony. 
I  swapped  a  box  of  percussion  caps  and  a  little  powder  for 
half  of  the  antelope,  for  which  I  was  blamed  by  the  older 
emigrants.  We  three,  away  off  by  ourselves,  often  tackled 
great  questions.  I  remember  that  night,  this  trade  with 
the  Indian  called  up  the  question  of  the  common  descent  of 
all  men  from  Adam  and  Eve.  "Pow"  and  I  denied.  Mr. 
Fuqua,  a  Presyterian,  affirmed. 

There  is  a  great  comfort  in  so  simple  a  thing  as  a  canteen. 
Mine  was  first  covered  with  several  layers  of  woolen  goods, 
then  with  hog  leather.  Saturated  and  filled  at  night,  by  evap- 
oration I  had  cool  water  all  day,  even  when  it  was  exposed 
to  the  sun. 

The  legs  of  my  buckskin  pants,  once  too  long,  have  shrunk- 
en till  they  are  six  inches  ;too  short,  and  so  are  my  draw- 
ers. Going  west  all  the  time,  the  heat  of  the  sun  has  blist- 
ered my  left  leg.  I  prevent  this  by  tying  a  sage  bush  to 
my  knee.  I  have  no  socks,  and  the  moccasins  are  about 
gone.  Every  clear,  warm  day,  is  wtash  day,  at  the  noon 
rest,  when  we  washed  and  waited  for  the  garments  to  dry. 

At  this  high  elevation  the  atmosphere  is  very  rare,  and 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  89 

the  explosion  of  a  gun  can  be  heard  only  a  few  rods.  At  the 
Devil's  Gate,  where  we  commenced  packing,  Archambeau 
gave  us  twelve  pounds  of  yellow  buffalo  tallow  for  shorten- 
ing bread  and  making  gravy,  a  good  change  from  pure  ba- 
con grease,  and  no  bad  substitute  for  butter. 

At  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  there  is  a 
swamp,  covering  an  acre  of  ground  and  abounding  in 
springs,  flowing  east  and  west,  into  both  oceans.  "Pow" 
and  I  rode  to  the  center  and  drank  to  the  oceans. 

A  thousand  details  like  these,  which  are  not  recorded,  are 
vividly  recalled  by  reading  the  journal.  Provisions  being 
lighter,  I  sold  the  weakest  horse  to  a  man  traveling  slow. 
Wind  River  Mountains  are  properly  named.  We  passed 
south  and  westward  to  the  country  drained  by  the  Hum- 
bodlt,  by  some  called  Mary's  River.  Saw  Alkali  Wells,  with 
water  even  to  the  surface  of  the  ground,  but  undrinkable. 
These  holes  are  said  to  be  unfathomable.  We  tied  three 
long  sticks  together,  with  a  heavy  weight  at  one  end  and  a 
thirty-foot  rope  at  the  other.  Mr.  Fuqua,  who  held  the  rope, 
thought  he  felt  an  under  current. 

The  bracing  atmosphere  has  given  health  to  all,  and 
caused  "Pow"  to  dream  of  fresh  meat.  He  told  his  dream 
at  breakfast.  Going  to  drive  up  the  stock,  I  saw  several 
deer  running;  fired  two  shots  at  the  bunch  at  short  range. 
Returning,  I  told  them  that  I  thought  one  was  wounded. 
"Pow"  found  blood,  and  sure  enough,  trailed,  killed  and 
brought  hams  and  saddle  into  camp.  We  often  talked  of 
that  dream.  Here  we  laid  over  for  several  days,  caught 
fish,  and  turned  up  our  noses  at  fried  bacon,  and  I  at  black 
coffee. 

A  trip  like  this  ought  to  make  any  man  a  judge  of  good 
horses,  one  of  the  best  gifts  of  God  to  man.  As  a  general 
rule,  for  endurance,  large  nostrils  and  sheth,  with  big- 
barrel,  fills  the  bill. 

Coming  down  Humboldt  River,  our  general  course  being 
southwest,  water  became  worse  and  worse  until  the  sink 
of  Humboldt  was  reached.  All  grass  and  water  permeated 
with  alkali.  With  perpetual  snow  in  sight  we  constantly 
dreamed  of  sweet  water. 


90  EARLY  DAYS  OP  FORT  WORTH. 

July  25.  Arrived  at  the  forty-five-mile  desert.  A  man 
gave  me  a  pint  of  water  from  Turkey  River,  the  best  drink 
I  ever  had.  At  5  a.  m.  arrived  at  Carson  River,  just  at 
daylight.  The  mules  smelled  water  first  and  quickened  their 
pace.  In  a  half  mile  further  we  plainly  felt  the  humidity 
in  our  faces.  Trading  post,  by  Californians,  near  the  out- 
come of  the  desert.  They  sold  water  for  twenty-five  cenfe 
a  quart,  and  a  quarter  section  of  dried  apple  pie  for  the 
same  price. 

Carson  is  the  prettiest  valley  I  ever  saw.  Viewed  from 
the  top  of  the  mountains,  with  the  river,  like  a  silver  thread 
meandering  through,  skirted  here  and  there  with  trees  and 
luxuriant  alfalfa  grass  everywhere.  Every  mile  or  so 
sparkling  branches  run  down  the  mountain  side,  from  the 
west. 

Stopped  three  days  at  Mormon  station  and  enjoyed  milk, 
pies,  etc.  The  family  is  protected  by  a  strong  stockade. 
Traveled  Johnson's  Cut-Off  over  the  mountains  to  Sacra- 
mento; sometimes  too  steep  to  ride  comfortably,  we  drove 
the  stock  ahead,  holding  onto  their  tails.  There  was  a  little 
underbrush,  and  the  soughing  of  the  wind  through  the  tall 
pine  trees,  and  the  resinous  smell,  reminded  me  of  the 
Blue  Ridge  Mountains  in  Virginia.  At  night,  looking  across 
Carson  Valley,  many  Indian  camp  fires  could  be  seen  far  up 
the  mountain  side.  Camped  in  sight  of  the  Nevada  Moun- 
tains and  saw  signs  of  grizzly  bear.  Some  foot-packers 
have  been  keeping  up  with  us  for  the  last  week.  They  are 
suffering  for  want  of  provisions.  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot 
give  them  some,  for  I  have  barely  enough  to  last  me  through. 
Came  thirty-five  miles  today,  passing  through  Placerville 
(Hangtown),  and  in  three  miles  from  Placerville  reached 
Diamond  Spring,  in  Eldorado  County,  California.  Putting 
up  at  the  hotel,  we  could  not  sleep  comfortably  in  the  house 
and  slept  out  with  the  stock.  Sold  outfit  to  Mr.  Argyle,  my 
buckskin  breeches  bring  me  twenty  dollars.  Went  by  stage 
to  Sacramento,  and  I  foolishly  riged  out  in  broadcloth  suit 
and  plug  hat,  not  knowing  that  people  would  take  me  for 
a  preacher  or  a  gambler,  for  these  professions  only  dressed 
in  style. 


OVERLAND  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA  IN  '52.  91 

The  journal  ends  thus :  "I  have  written  this  journal  part- 
ly in  the  day  and  partly  at  night,  when  it  was  raining,  hail- 
ing, snowing — in  all  kinds  of  weather — therefore  it  contains 
many  mistakes." 

A  year  afterwards  stopped  at  John  Dawson's  hotel  in 
Sacramento  City,  on  Fourth  street,  between  J  and  K.  Pass- 
ing the  parlors  a  fine  looking  lady  hailed  me,  saying,  "Mr. 
Terrell,  don't  you  know  me?"  It  was  Cassie.  She  said 
that  all  were  well,  her  brother  Jo  had  made  a  fortune  mining, 
and  that  she  was  keeping  a  boarding  house.  She  had  a  baby 
in  her  lap — its  hair  was  red. 


THE  MASONIC  BELL  AT  FORT  WORTH. 


When  the  writer  came  to  Fort  Worth,  in  1857,  he  found 
a  population  of  not  exceeding  300  souls.  The  only  preten- 
tious structure  in  the  embryo  city  was  a  lodge  building 
of  Fort  Worth,  No.  148,  A.  F.  and  A.  Masons,  a  two-story 
brick  building,  used  for  Masonic  and  school  purposes,  and 
the  worship  of  God  by  all  denominations. 

In  Texas,  as  a  general  rule,  Masonic  buildings  were 
erected  first,  and  then  came  chufrch  edifices.  This  was  be- 
cause Masons  were  united  and  the  church  divided,  as  now, 
into  many  warring  fragments,  and  thus  it  was  and  is,  that 
Masonry  smoothes  into  a  harmonious  whole  the  roughness 
caused  by  the  bigotry  and  dissentions  of  the  sects,  and  the 
selfishness,  ignorance  and  ambition  of  their  leaders. 

Then  the  nearest  chapter  was  distant  a  hundred  miles. 
Many  brethren  traveled  even  a  greater  distance,  through  a 
country  infested  by  Indians,  to  attend  stated  communica- 
tions of  this  lodge.  Then  we  were  on  the  frontier,  a  small, 
poor  and  struggling  band.  NowT  we  have  the  largest  mem- 
bership, and  best  equipped  lodge  building  in  the  State,  with 
flourishing  Widows'  and  Orphans'  Home  built  here  by  a 
donation  of  this  lodge,  and  its  friends,  of  not  less  than 
$9,000,  raised  and  paid  within  the  past  two  years. 

Nothing  recalls  more  vividly  those  times  than  the  unusu- 
ally sweet  sounding  bell  located  on  the  roof  of  the  lodge 
building,  and  which  often  calls  the  craft  to  labor  and  re- 
freshment. 

There  is  something  in  the  sound  of  the  old  bell  that  tend- 
erly and  softly  recalls  happy  memories  long  forgotten,  and 
keeps  us  in  touch,  as  it  were,  with  fellow-craftsmen  whose 
spirits  have  returned  to  God.  The  shades  of  M.  T.  Johnson, 
Julian  Fields,  W.  P.  Burts,  George  Newman,  the  three  Dag- 
getts,  Sam  Sealy,  Joel  Snider,  W.  H.  Overton,  Lawrence 
Steele,  John  L.  Purvis,  W.  T.  Ferguson,  H.  C.  Johnson,  John 
Peter  Smith,  and  a  host  of  others  rise  up  before  us. 

Who  could  but  love,  nay  venerate,  the  inanimate  object 


THE  MASONIC  BELL  AT  FORT  WORTH.  93 

that  conjures  up  such  memories?  No  wonder  old  settlers 
love  the  bell ;  it  rang  out  the  old  year,  and  rang  in  the  new. 
It  sounded  the  fire  alarm,  called  to  divine  service,  rang  out 
merrily  for  weddings,  and  tolled  dirges  for  their  dead. 

It  was  made  in  London  in  1782,  and  was,  in  1855,  brought 
to  Fort  Worth,  and  owned  by  Lawrence  Steele,  who  used 
it  on  the  northwest  corner  of  the  public  square,  at  his 
hotel,  until  1871.  Happily  it  escaped  impressment,  for 
bells  were  necessarily  used  during  the  Civil  War  for  mak- 
ing cannon,  and  its  remoteness  from  Richmond  probably 
saved  it. 

In  1871  Oscar  J.  Lawrence  and  his  sister,  Miss  Mary 
Victoria  Lawrence  taught  the  "Masonic  Institute"  in  the 
old  brick  lodge  building  in  this  city,  and  they  raised  the 
money  by  public  subscription  to  buy  the  bell  for  lodge  and 
school  purposes. 

"Our  much  loved  bell,  our  Mason  bell, 
Could  it  but  speak,  true  tales  'twould  tell 

Of  youth  and  home,  and  those  old  times, 
When  oft  we  heard  your  soothing  chimes. 

And  so  'twill  be,  when  we  are  gone, 
That  tuneful  peal  will  still  ring  on; 

And  other  craftsmen  to  brothers  tell 

And  speak  your  praise,  sweet  Mason  bell." 

Long  may  our  old  bell  be  preserved  to  announce  to  the 
craft  the  hours  of  labor  and  rest. 


IN  MEMORIAM. 


Committee  Report  of  A.  F.  and  A.  Masons  Upon  the  Life  and 
Death  of  J.  P.  Smith. 

To  the  Worshipful  Master,  Warden  and  Brethren  of  Fort 

Worth  Lodge  148,  A.  F.  &  A.  Masons. 

Brethren:  Your  committee  appointed  to  draft  a  mem- 
orial and  resolutions  concerning  the  life  and  death  of  our 
beloved  brother,  John  Peter  Smith,  deceased,  beg  leave  to 
report  as  follows : 

"His  life  was  so  gentle ;  and  the  elements 

Were  so  mix'd  in  him,  that  Nature  might  stand  up, 

And  say  to  all  the  world,  THIS  IS  A  MAN!" 

On  Thursday  morning,  April  11,  1901,  John  Peter  Smith 
died  in  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  whither  he  had  gone  on  business  to 
further  his  life-work  of  upbuilding  Texas  and  Fort  Worth. 

The  announcement  of  his  death  caused  a  shock  and  thrill 
of  unutterable  regret  to  the  entire  community,  by  which 
he  was  so  highly  and  universally  respected  and  loved.  All 
were  our  dear  brother's  friends.  None,  "none  knew  him 
but  to  love  him,  none  named  him  but  to  praise." 

After  the  shock  had  somewhat  subsided  we  involuntarily 
asked  ourselves  the  question  "Gone?  And  shall  we  indeed 
see  his  familiar  face  no  more,  here  where  he  lived  doing 
good  for  forty-eight  years;  shall  we  be  with  him  in  the 
future  life  and  there,  with  full  identity,  renew  our  love?" 

The  great  mystery  of  life  and  death,  known  only  to  the 
Grand  Architect,  is  hidden  from  man,  whose  finite  mind 
can  not  fathom  the  cause  of  his  creation  nor  the  necessity 
of  suffering  and  death. 

We  believe  that  if  one  worships  God  with  all  his  heart, 
walks  humbly  before  him,  and  does  good  and  not  evil,  such 
an  one  will  happily  inherit  eternal  life. 

Our  dear  departed  brother  loved  and  worshipped  God 
and  possessed  in  an  unusual  degree  the  Christian  graces; 


IN  MEMORIAM.  95 

wherefore  we  have  an  abiding  faith  that  we  will  by  emu- 
lating his  virtues,  be  reunited  with  him  in  "that  house  not 
made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  tiaDCTOft  Llbfl 

Brother  John  Peter  Smith  was  early  left  an  orphan,  was 
a  member  and  regular  attendant  of  the  Christian  church 
services;  was  educated  at  Bethany  College,  Va. ;  was  born 
in  Owen  County,  Ky.,  September  16,  1831,  and  hence  had 
nearly  reached  the  three-score  and  ten  limit.  He  located 
in  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  in  1853,  and  taught  school  here  in 
1854 ;  was  a  surveyor  and  land  locater  by  occupation ;  stud- 
ied law  here  with  A.  Y.  Fowler,  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar 
by  Judge  Nat  J.  Burford  in  1860.  In  1861  he  voted  against 
the  ordinance  of  secession,  but  followed  the  fortunes  of 
his  State  in  the  ensuing  struggle.  A  member  of  Company 
K,  Seventh  regiment,  Texas  Cavalry,  Silbley's  Brigade,  he 
participated  in  the  campaign  of  New  Mexico,  Arizona  and 
Western  Louisiana;  was  severely  wounded  in  1863  near 
Donaldsonville,  La.,  and  slightly  wounded  at  Mansfield; 
was  present  at  the  capture  of  Galveston  in  1864;  was  ad- 
jutant of  Greene's  brigade;  was  promoted  to  colonel  of  his 
regiment  near  the  close  of  the  war,  and  disbanded  his  com- 
mand in  Navarro  County  in  1865. 

In  1852-53  Brother  Smith  became  a  Mason,  and  was  one 
of  the  original  charter  members  of  Fort  Worth  Lodge  No. 
148,  which  worked  under  dispensation  in  1854,  and  was 
regularly  chartered  in  1855,  our  brother  being  secretary. 
He  became  a  Royal  Arch  Mason  in  1858,  and  served  two 
years  as  High  Priest  of  our  Chapter.  On  the  4th  of  Oc- 
tober, 1897,  he  was  elected  life  member  of  this  lodge,  and 
exempted  from  all  lodges  dues.  His  mark  is  a  coffin  with 
sprig  of  acacia,  recorded  June  1,  1859.  On  the  16th  of 
October,  1867,  he  was  happily  married  to  Mrs.  Mary  E. 
Fox,  daughter  of  Col.  James  Young,  in  this  county.  Our 
brother  and  his  wife  taught  the  Masonic  school  here  just 
after  the  close  of  the  war.  He  leaves  surviving  him  his 
dutiful  and  affectionate  wife  and  five  promising  children, 
to-wit:  James  Young,  John  Peter,  Florence  C.,  William 
Beall,  and  Samuel  C.,  the  latter  16  years  of  age. 

He  was  twice  mayor  of  Fort  Worth ;  caused  the  widening 


96  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 

of  our  sidewalks,  the  building  of  the  gas  and  old  water 
works,  and  was  one  of  the  eight  who  erected  the  Pickwick 
hotel,  aided  in  building  the  Main  street  railway  and  cotton 
compress,  donating  to  the  city  land  for  three  cemeteries, 
besides  making  numerous  private  donations.  He  gave  thous- 
ands of  dollars  to  build  our  railways. 

Although  a  man  of  mild  and  gentle  manners,  modest  and 
unassuming,  yet  on  occasion  he  could  be  firm  and  unyield- 
ing as  adamant.  When  once  he  had  fully  investigated  a 
subject  he  deferred  his  judgment  to  no  man.  In  his  do- 
mestic relations  he  was  gentle,  just,  affectionate  and  most 
devoted.  He  was,  indeed,  a  most  lovable,  useful  and  noble 
man.  Long  will  his  loss  be  felt  by  us  and  by  all  the  com- 
munity as  well.  Never  can  his  place  in  our  hearts  be  filled 
by  another.  He  stands  out,  as  it  were,  from  all  others  as 
a  fine  example  of  old  Texas  manhood.  For  by  his  own  effort 
and  merits  he  rose  from  a  poor,  orphan  boy,  seeking  on 
foot  a  home  in  the  village  of  Fort  Worth,  to  become  one 
of  the  most  useful  and  dearest  beloved  citizens  of  the  State 
of  Texas. 

We  recommend  the  passage  of  the  following: 

Resolved,  By  Fort  Worth  Lodge  148,  Ancient,  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons,  that  we  deeply  sympathize  with  the  be- 
reaved family  of  the  deceased,  and  bow  with  submission 
and  resignation  to  divine  will  in  the  taking  of  our  beloved 
brother  to  Himself,  where  we  hope  to  share  with  him  eternal 
life. 

Resolved,  That  the  foregoing  be  spread  on  our  book  of 
records,  and  that  a  certified  copy  hereof,  signed  by  the  Wor- 
shipful Master,  and  attested  by  the  secretary,  be  delivered 
to  the  family  of  the  deceased. 

J.  C.  TERRELL, 
T.  N.  EDGELL, 
C.  D.  LUSK, 

Committes. 


THE  SOUL. 


(BY  JUDGE  ALEX  W.  TERRELL.) 
Like  cosmic  wreck  from  a  distant  sphere 

Is  the  erring  human  race — 
Like  atoms  of  dust  we  are  drifting  here 
With  blind  unrest,  and  a  haunting  fear 

Of  the  tomb  as  a  resting  place. 

We  came  to  this  world  without  our  will, 

And  will  leave  it  with  a  sigh; 
For  the  mingled  threads  of  good  and  ill 
In  the  warp  of  each  life  are  weaving  still, 

And  will  mingle  till  we  die. 

We  may  question  the  stars  of  our  destiny — 

The  stars  with  their  clear,  sweet  light — 
But  the  jeweled  sky  gives  no  reply 
To  the  yearning  spirit's  plaintive  cry 

In  the  stillness  of  the  night. 

i 

From  the  mother's  breast  to  the  sexton's  spade, 

There  are  tears — and  toil — and  strife — 
If  when  this  shell  in  the  tomb  is  laid 
Its  soul  like  a  flame  burned  out  must  fade — 
Why  this  hope  for  future  life? 

Ncr  token  comes  from  beyond  the  tomb 

To  tell  if  the  soul  is  there; — 
Does  a  falling  star  portend  its  doom — 
A  flash  of  light  in  the  midnight  gloom — 

Then  darkness — everywhere? 

No!  No!  There  is  something  in  us  here 

That  longs  for  a  higher  plane, — 
An  inborn  hope  for  a  brighter  sphere 
Where  disenthralled  from  grief  and  fear 
We  may  live  and  love  again. 


98  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 


This  inborn  hope  illumes  the  way 

When  life  seems  too  hard  to  bear; 
It  was  born  with  us, — and  will  ever  stay 
Like  the  star  that  heralds  the  dawn  of  day 
To  keep  us  from  despair* 

If  this  hope  deludes — then  life  is  vain 

And  cursed  by  an  adverse  fate; 
If  the  soul  can  never  live  again 
It's  a  curse  more  dread  than  the  curse  of  Cain- 
And  our  God — is  a  God  of  Hate. 

No  speck  of  matter  around  us  here 

Is  lost  as  the  ages  roll — 
Can  the  breath  of  God,  who  rules  this  sphere, 
Once  breathed  into  man,  now  disappear? 

Can  death  destroy  the  soul? 

Self-conscious,  but  viewless  as  the  wind 

That  churns  the  ocean  foam, 
The  soul  that  is  neither  flesh  nor  mind — 
With  its  subtle  essence  undefined, 

Keeps  guard  in  its  prison  home. 

And  there  like  a  watchful  sentinel 

Its  vigil  in  silence  keeps ; 
But  in  whispered  dreams  will  sometimes  tell, 
Of  a  far  off  home  where  it  longs  to  dwell, — 

For  the  spirit  never  sleeps. 

The  soul  has  never  been  seen  nor  heard, 

But  lives  to  warn  and  to  teach ; 
The  fountain  of  tears  by  its  touch  is  stirred — 
It  quickens  conscience  without  a  word, 

Where  silence  is  more  than  speech. 


THE  SOUL.  99 


Does  nothing  exist  that  can't  be  seen, 

And  that  no  man  ever  saw? 
The  earth  in  the  spring  is  clothed  in  green, 
But  who  sees  the  life  that  gives  it  sheen  ? 
Or  the  Source  of  nature's  law? 

We  call  God  "Father"  because  He  made 
The  living  soul  with  His  breath; 

Can  anger  the  Father's  heart  invade? 

Does  the  Father  still  His  child  upbraid? 
Will  He  burn  it  after  death? 

Nothing  but  mystery  here  is  found 

Where  our  senses  feebly  plod ; 
The  mind  constrained — by  the  finite  bound — 
Can  never  the  depths  of  creation  sound 

Nor  fathom  the  ways  of  God. 

No  man-made  creed  can  resolve  our  doubt — 

We  are  blind — and  have  always  been, 
But  can  feel  when  God  directs  our  route 
And  the  waiting  soul  with  joy  may  shout 
With  its  faith  in  things  unseen. 

Faith  is  nursed  by  Hope  in  the  realm  of  Love, 

Where  her  spirit  wings  are  given ; 
When  her  trusting  eyes  are  fixed  above 
She  wings  her  way  like  an  ark-bound  dove 
To  her  destined  home  in  heaven. 

In  this  chequered  life  of  pain  and  care 

Faith  whispers  to  console, — 
She  can  brave  the  storm  with  bosom  bare, — 
Or  like  breath  of  spring  where  roses  are 

Can  cheer  the  departing  soul. 


100  EARLY  DAYS  OF  FORT  WORTH. 


The  parting  soul  will  a  helper  need 

When  it  leaves  this  world  of  strife, — 
But  never  a  man  with  blood-stained  creed, 
For  an  angel  plumed  with  love  will  lead 
When  we  pass  from  death  to  life. 

Harmonious  nature  every  hour 

Proclaims  a  Sentient  Cause, — 
Who  wheels  the  planets, — paints  the  flower,- 
And  gives  the  soul  its  spirit  power — 

CREATOR  of  nature's  laws. 

Oh !  wonderful  God !    Thou  art — nor  can 

Thy  love  for  Thy  image  fade ; 
Thou  hast  created  the  soul  of  man, — 
No  vengeful  hate  can  distort  Thy  plan 

Nor  destroy  what  Thou  hast  made. 

In  Thee — the  Maker — I  place  my  trust : — 

Thou  didst  not  create  in  vain 
This  breathing  clay — this  pulsing  dust,— 
This  home  of  tears  and  sensual  lust, — 

This  prison  house  of  pain/ 

For  pain  is  the  tribute  paid  to  bliss,; ' 

And  for  future  ecstasy. — 
The  death  pang  is  nature's  final  kiss. — 
The  worm  that  dies  in  its  chrysalis 

Revives  with  wings  to  fly. 

Every  soul  while  on  earth  renews  some  stain 

Some  sin — perhaps  unconfessed : 
But  God  will  reclaim  His  own  again.  — 
The  crucified  thief  did  not  ask  in  vain, 
But  in  paradise  is  blessed. 


THE  SOUL.  101 


To  God  my  life  was  a  written  page — 

He  knew  all  that  I  would  be; — 
He  knew  how  the  tyrant  passions  rage,  — 
How  storm-swept  is  all  my  anchorage, — 
And  why  I  would  drift  to  sea. 

I  will  trust  Him  in  my  utmost  need 

To  the  resurrection  morn; — 
He  knows  that  my  every  sinful  deed 
Was  but  ripened  fruit  from  sin-germ  seed 

That  were  sown  ere  I  was  born. 

To  free  our  souls  from  the  taint  of  crime 

Christ  died  like  a  God  for  us ; 
His  words  still  cheer  as  in  olden  time, 
And  the  world's  heart  thrills  in  every  clime 

To  His  tears  for  Lazarus. 

I  see  God's  love  in  the  fragrant  rose, — 
His  strength  in  each  wheeling  sphere : 
I  feel  His  touch  when  the  zephyr  blows, — 
His  mercy  for  all  like  a  river  flows, 
And  my  soul  has  ceased  to  fear. 

This  trusting  soul  can  ask  for  no  more 

Than  to  keep  its  faith  sublime : — 
The  loved  and  lost  have  gone  before, 
And  wait  for  me  on  the  restful  shore 
That  borders  the  stream  of  time. 


195062 


